Independent Variable
by babelbabel
Summary: Hiruma Youichi always gets what he wants. So does Kongo Agon. Things only went bad once they started to want different things. Ahiru.
1. Chapter 1

****Disclaimer: This story is based on Eyeshield 21, the manga. Not the anime.

A/N: I don't know if anyone even cares about this series anymore, but I still love it, and since I've already written this much I figured I'd post it in case someone does want to read it.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

You better choose your words carefully because I'm not your anything

Gonna stay here in my place and you'll stay in yours

Because your only good is what you're good for

_-Carry You, _Jimmy Eat World

Tap, click.

Computers and surveillance networks. They went hand in hand with one another. Then they led you straight down the road to blackmail hell.

Copy, paste, delete.

His surveillance network of hacked cell phones fed images from every part of Tokyo directly to his laptop. Endless evidence of Japanese citizens committing crimes and pursuing guilty pleasures. Survival based on perfect prediction of the most effective way to use it all.

Drag, drop, click-click.

The computer allowed him to navigate the chaotic stream of data. He controlled some of the most sensitive information in all of Japan and it just sat there on his hard drive, waiting to be used.

Tap, minimize.

The laptop was endless organizing and filing that kept his calculating mind from growing stagnant.

Crop, resize, paste, exit window, click.

It was everything that mattered so far in his entire life, all contained within a single machine.

Start menu, shut down. Black screen. Silence as the fans stopped running.

But he still needed more.

Close.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Hiruma said.

There was no trembling, fearful answer. He glanced down at the alley beneath him. The shuffle of noise he'd heard wasn't the rare, curious pedestrian coming over to talk to him (the rocket launcher propped against his side was probably a strong deterrent).

Hiruma was seated on the fire escape of his hotel, where his laptop's extension cord could still reach the outlet just below his window. The backside of the business building was usually empty, but a boy about his age had appeared underneath him. He had dragged with him the body of a high school student that looked considerably bigger than him.

Of course. Criminals gathered in the same kinds of places.

The boy began to root through the student's pockets, tossing a set of keys over his shoulder. He barely spared a glance up at Hiruma before he pulled out a wallet.

"Never mind," Hiruma said. He opened his laptop again and tapped the power key. He wondered how long the boy would stay in the alley, and if any of the student's friends were chasing him. Didn't look like it.

Hiruma typed in a series of passwords and waited for his computer to boot up. Once a pile of bullet shells appeared on his desktop background, he began to search through his video files, trying to remember where he'd seen the boy before.

He'd been gathering information about the other middle school students in his area ever since the men at the American base had taught him about football. This boy wasn't in any sports clubs, though. Although it seemed like the details Hiruma recorded about people were limited to what he could use against them, he actually had a secondary purpose. Soon, he knew that he wouldn't be able to gamble with the Americans anymore, if only because he kept winning. He was planning to start a gambling ring of his own in high school that covered all the football clubs in Tokyo, and possibly the main ones for the other prefectures so that he could follow them to the nationals. He had already memorized the faces of every ace in each school, but not every great athlete joined a sports club before high school. He saved what statistics he could find on other students from their PE classes, but they mostly hung on the peripheral of his mind, side notes that he couldn't do anything with yet. He was fairly certain that he remembered this boy's face, though.

He finally found a picture of him and brought up the corresponding stats. His name was Kongo Agon, and Hiruma was right; he wasn't part of any sports clubs. But he was fast and one of the best athletes in his school. Hiruma had noted at the bottom that Agon was a showoff and arrogant as hell. He probably thought he was too good to join a sports club. People like him were common, in Hiruma's opinion. Either they joined a team and lorded themselves over everyone because of their abilities or they wasted them by refusing to train at all. Hiruma marked the folder to remind himself that he'd seen Kongo Agon in person, but kept it filed with all his other side notes. He had no use for someone who wouldn't join a sports team.

Hiruma went back to studying the videos streaming to his computer. He switched the view from several cameras in his hotel to the train station. He caught sight of a businessman in an expensive suit exchanging a wad of cash for a rolled-up paper bag and recorded the image.

Below him, Agon had stripped the student of his jacket and was robbing those pockets as well. Hiruma wished he could use that brawn to collect more blackmail info. He watched as he lifted the high school student over his shoulder and tossed him into the dumpster without even changing his breathing. But he knew that someone like Agon would never help him out willingly. Never mind that his method of finding students to mug was probably completely inefficient, way too much work for slim pickings…

His loss.

Hiruma watched Agon leave the alleyway out of the corner of his eye, and quickly switched the view on his laptop. He followed him through his cameras down the street. He kept the video stream up until he saw him get on a train headed south to Kanagawa.

He did a basic search until he found a few families in that area with the name Kongo and split his monitor into four screens, each one showing a street as close to the listed houses as he could get. He hit record and shut his laptop again with a grin.

His memory tried to tell him that there had been a hint of interest in Agon's face when he'd glanced up in the alleyway. Hiruma ignored it and climbed back through his window, ready to order his free room service from the hotel.

Four days passed and Hiruma was bored as hell. School was obnoxiously easy, as always, and the game he'd been preparing to bet on at the American base had been cancelled because of rain. It was still raining outside, and Hiruma was going to set off some hand grenades soon if something more interesting didn't happen. Fucking rain wasn't any excuse to cancel a match.

Hiruma sat by himself in a coffee shop. It had been crowded with people looking for a shelter from the rain when he'd entered it an hour ago, but it had quickly emptied out. The girl working behind the counter kept throwing him scared looks, and every time new customers walked in, they backed out as quickly as they could. Hiruma had his laptop in front of him, but hardly anyone was on the streets, where most of his cameras were. He scowled as he thought of how much work he would have to do replacing the ones that the rain ruined.

He caught himself idly flicking the safety on and off on his Browning and placed the gun down on the table. He heard a sigh of relief from the girl. He tapped a few keys, forcing himself to relax and find something to do. He could always hack the school computers and review the rosters of students in the sports clubs, just to make sure no one new had joined. Or…

He rested his left hand on the small black notebook in his pocket. His fingers flew back to the keyboard and the monitor flicked through several windows of folders before arriving at one with a picture of a red key over it. He unlocked it with a password and opened a web browser under a program that kept his history from being recorded, then typed "local shogi tournaments" into the search bar.

The shop door opened, ringing the little bell that hung above it. Hiruma glanced up automatically, then stayed absolutely still, following the figure with his eyes. It was Kongo Agon, beaming an innocent smile at the girl behind the counter.

Hiruma quickly closed all of the windows on his computer and placed his hand on the Browning again. Leaning back in his chair, he waited to see if the other boy would notice him.

Agon leaned against the counter, his smile still in place, and ordered a cup of coffee. The girl blushed and fumbled with the cash register. When she told him the total, he just asked what time she got off work. The girl giggled and went to get the drink.

Hiruma watched this with interest. The moment the girl's back was turned, Agon's expression grew bored and he began to fiddle with the tip jar. He glanced up at the girl, still busy with the coffee machine, and silently pocketed the folded bills. A smirk washed briefly over his features before he again caught the girl's eye and smiled. He thanked her for the coffee and turned away. As he did so, his eyes snagged on Hiruma's.

"What are you looking at, fag?" he growled. Hiruma's grin widened, baring his sharp teeth. Agon frowned, and then raised an eyebrow in recognition. "Aren't you the guy from the alleyway?" he asked, his eyes lingering on the gun in Hiruma's hand.

Hiruma cackled and shut his laptop. He jerked his head towards the door. "Got a minute, fucking blondie?"

The scowl deepened to a glare as Agon's free hand shot up to his hair. Before he could protest, Hiruma looked pointedly at the tip jar. "Excuse me, miss," he said in his most polite voice, which sounded more artificial than generic orange soda.

Agon's eyes widened. The girl looked up and flinched at Hiruma's expression.

"…one coffee, please," he finished. He saw the tension go out of the other boy's shoulders and his smirk grew. He took the paper cup the girl handed him and threw it away before following Agon out of the shop, laptop bag slung over his shoulder and Browning casually resting in his hand.

Agon glanced back to make sure Hiruma was following him. Hiruma kept his smirk in place as they went down the street. The rain was running down his face and washing the gel out of his hair, but he barely noticed. This was exactly the opportunity he'd been waiting for. He'd watched Agon on his cameras for a few days well enough to know that he was often in this area of Tokyo. He'd also seen enough to know that if he approached Agon on his own, he'd never get anything from him. He had to make the encounter as coincidental as possible. There was little chance that he'd actually make Agon afraid of him, but he could at least make him wary.

Agon stopped at the corner and turned around to face him. Hiruma saw the growing irritation, the hint of curiosity just barely enough to keep Agon there for a few minutes. That was all it would take.

"Well, what? Have you been stalking me or something?" Agon sneered. He drank half of his coffee down in one gulp.

Hiruma slowly pulled the black notebook out of his pocket and opened it to a page at random.

"Kongo Agon," he pretended to read. "Recently stole money from a coffee shop. Yesterday, robbed an innocent young girl of her wallet and her virginity. Skipped school all last week. Attacked and robbed two high school students." Hiruma raised his eyebrows. "Recently made a sexual advance towards a male student of his middle school and was turned down flat."

"That's a fucking lie!" Agon threw his coffee cup on the ground and grabbed Hiruma's collar. Hiruma's face was still locked in its toothy grin, but behind the mask almost the entirety of his attention was on Agon's other hand. He knew how fast the other boy was, but under no circumstances could he allow himself to be hit. It would ruin everything if Agon thought he could overpower him.

Pocketing the notebook, he shoved the barrel of the Browning under Agon's jaw. He stiffened and relaxed his grip enough to let Hiruma step back.

"I want you to be my thug," Hiruma said curtly. "One job for every piece of dirt I have on you."

"Why me?" The low voice was suspicious.

Hiruma shrugged casually. "Because you look dumb enough to start a fight and strong enough to win it."

Agon growled low in his throat, but didn't move. He weighed Hiruma carefully with his eyes.

"Plus," Hiruma added, "you're bored. Or do you like only targeting weaklings and desperate girls?"

"You're one to talk, you skinny asshole," Agon muttered, but his eyes flicked towards the Browning. "So, what, be like a bodyguard?"

Hiruma snorted. "It'd be more like what you do now, except you'd mug the people I tell you to." He glanced again at Agon's other hand, which clenched slightly, then lifted the gun away. "I'd let you keep any money you found, of course." He stepped back again as Agon released his collar completely.

The mention of money made Agon actually listen to him, but the dark eyes still looked suspicious. Hiruma waited. He didn't really care enough about Agon to sell him out to the police if he refused. Forcing him into anything would likely just end in Hiruma's arm being broken. Or worse. Still, Agon could be useful for a lot of things.

Hiruma noted a slight shrug as Agon made up his mind. "Fine. But if this shit gets boring, then I'm out of here."

Hiruma's grin widened. "Then come with me, fucking blondie." He reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of dark shades.

Agon stared at them, then glanced up at the still-clouded sky. Hiruma shoved them onto Agon's face impatiently.

"Just wear them. I want to see those on your face every time you do a job."

Hiruma waited for him to fix the glasses before he began to walk. Agon stayed a few paces behind him, but Hiruma was careful not to walk so fast that Agon felt like he was following instead of walking with him. It was important to let him think that he still had some control. Set up the dynamics of this partnership right from the start.

The calculating part of his mind analyzed this with the precision he'd learned from his father. The part of him that just wanted to cause some chaos cackled in anticipation.

They walked five blocks to an arcade, Agon muttering the whole way about how long this was taking. Hiruma led him inside and gestured with his gun to two boys wearing the Maou Middle School uniform.

"Try and get them outside," Hiruma suggested. Agon snorted and moved forward.

He didn't say a word, just grabbed one of them by the shoulder, spun him around, and decked him. No threat, no explanation, nothing. His fist closed around the second boy's collar and he sneered. Hiruma watched Agon's eyes look over at him and he gave his most demonic smile as he cocked the Browning. The boy whimpered.

Agon dragged him outside after motioning for the first boy to follow them. Hiruma walked ahead of them to the side of the building and stood back to watch Agon work.

It took less than a minute to get both boys on the ground. They were weak, and Agon was a beast when he fought, unleashing all of his considerable strength into each blow, refusing to hold back in the slightest. The boys' whimpers only seemed to fuel his attacks; he grinned when one of them landed a weak kick on his shin before he chopped him on the head. The boy plummeted to the ground.

The sharp-toothed smile stretching across Hiruma's face relaxed into a real one, no less terrifying. Agon was obviously enjoying this, the way that Hiruma enjoyed having so many people under his control. Finally, someone who wouldn't try to reform him or tell him that he had more potential than this, who knew this dark joy as intimately as he did. Hiruma's smile widened as he reorganized his picture of Agon in his head.

As Agon bent down to start looking for money, Hiruma stepped forward. He wanted a chance to speak before they passed out.

"Fucking stop trying to win our classmates' loyalty. Maou is mine, shitheads," he said coolly. Both boys nodded vigorously, their eyes fixed nervously on Hiruma's index finger toying with the trigger.

Agon pocketed the cash he found and kicked one of the boys. "Get out of here, trash."

They scrambled away as quickly as their battered bodies would let them. Hiruma cackled, then found himself shoved against the brick wall, Agon's forearm pressing the air out of his lungs.

"Now give me that notebook," he growled. The sunglasses had slipped down his nose to reveal scowling eyes.

Hiruma tried to bring up his gun and found his wrist pinned against the rough brick as well. "Fuck," he hissed as he felt the bones grind. "You think that's the only place I've got the evidence? Deal's a deal, one job per piece of dirt I've got on you."

"And how many is that?"

"Twelve."

Agon's grip loosened slightly, then both hands shot forward to snag Hiruma's laptop bag from him. A cold metal barrel was pressed to the nape of Agon's neck the next instant, but he already had the laptop out. He lifted his arms, ready to throw it. Hiruma tensed.

Technically, it would still be all right. He had everything backed up multiple times, and the few recent things he didn't would be easy enough to find again. Reconnecting all his camera videos to a new laptop would be a bitch, but it was doable. And it wasn't like Hiruma had much else to do when he wasn't on the base.

What really worried him was that he might have judged Agon incorrectly. He felt like he understood him, even after only a few days of watching, because something in them was similar. He had thought that this plan would work. He cast around for a way to salvage the situation, to not let Agon walk away with the upper hand.

Agon stood up before he made a decision. "Make sure I get to bone a pretty girl next time and I'm in."

Without missing a beat, Hiruma planted a smirk on his face and lifted the gun. "Deal, fucking blondie." He snickered as Agon's eyebrow twitched. The taller boy dumped the laptop in his arms and walked away without glancing back. He didn't look like someone who'd just sold his soul to the devil. Hiruma wavered slightly in his decision, but reminded himself of how quickly Agon had taken down those two boys. He could definitely use him.

He zipped his laptop back into the bag, irritated that it had gotten wet at all. Heading back to his hotel, he tried not to think too hard about what he would have done if the laptop had been smashed. It would have been fine. Really.

"Fucking pathetic," he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"So now _you're _stalking _me_?" Hiruma asked lightly. "For an idiot who keeps claiming that he's got so many better things to be doing, you sure don't look busy."

He heard Agon huff. "I just happened to come on the same train. If anyone's doing the stalking, it's been you since day one."

Hiruma finally glanced up at him and burst into laughter. "Fucking dreads! What the fuck happened to your hair?" The previously bishounen-blonde hair now hung in dark brown dreadlocks just above his shoulders. Agon scowled, which only made Hiruma cackle harder.

"Shut up! I didn't want my hair to match yours, trash," he snarled. His big hands gripped the pole where he stood in the aisle. Hiruma was seated an inch from his knee.

"If you don't want anything, go away," he said, returning his attention to the notebook balanced on his leg. He tapped his pencil against the paper before scribbling down some more numbers. He was calculating the odds for this week's football game at the base, but it was hard to pin down, since he had to take into account the new player who had moved there recently. He still wasn't sure how consistent his playing abilities were…

Hiruma suddenly became aware that Agon was still talking. "…and I'll talk to you if I feel like it, trash, you owe it to me since you keep showing up out of nowhere with your little jobs."

"I said to shut the fuck up," Hiruma said, irritated. Agon made a grab for the notebook, but Hiruma predicted the move and tucked it away first. He glared up at the boy before he started to laugh again at the ridiculous dreadlocks.

"What?" Agon said defensively.

"I can't wait to see that hairdo with your sunglasses. Fucking Bob Marley!" He doubled over, ignoring the chop Agon landed on his head.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Hiruma blew a bubble with his gum at the new voice. It popped just as he realized that the newcomer looked exactly like Agon. Like Agon with short hair, anyway.

"He's not my friend!" Agon snarled. "Just a bastard I know."

"Kongo Unsui," he said, ignoring his twin. He held his hand out to Hiruma. "Nice to meet you."

Hiruma gripped the hand and revealed his sharp-toothed smile. "I'm a fucking Keebler elf. Nice to meet you, too."

Unsui just returned the handshake, completely unfazed. Growing up with Agon might do that to you, Hiruma thought. He was reluctantly impressed at Unsui's calm.

Unsui grabbed the pole on the other side of Hiruma and studied the two of them. Hiruma decided to ignore them both and pulled out his cell phone.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Unsui asked politely. He glanced at Agon, who looked like he was trying to make his twin spontaneously combust with the strength of his glare.

Hiruma didn't answer, though his fingers on the cell phone slowed slightly.

"Agon normally doesn't talk to any guys, but when he said that recently he's been hanging out with someone, I was curious."

Hiruma didn't answer as he opened up Tetris on his phone. He wasn't sure what Unsui was talking about and he didn't really care enough to ask him. He had called out Agon three more times since that first day, over a month ago. And though Agon had completed the job every time, he'd always gone off immediately with the girl he'd saved from danger. Hiruma hardly thought that that constituted "hanging out." There were the brief conversations before a job, but they were mostly limited to insults and Agon's complaints. Hiruma found it oddly satisfying. Agon was the only person besides the Americans that wasn't afraid of him. The efficiency of their interactions satisfied him even more. Find Agon, get the job done, go their separate ways. Which reminded him.

"Fucking dreads, give me your cell number," Hiruma said, starting to create a new entry on his phone.

"Hell no!"

Unsui rattled off a string of numbers before Agon could stop him and smiled at Hiruma. "Sorry, my younger brother can be rude sometimes. Thank you for putting up with him."

"Little shit!"

As Agon chopped Unsui's shoulder, Hiruma noticed a slight glint in the older twin's eye. He's teasing Agon, Hiruma thought.

"So you like American football?"

"What?" Hiruma asked sharply.

Unsui gestured to his bag. "Sorry, I saw your notes. Those were football positions, right? I'm thinking about joining the American football club at our school."

He reconsidered Unsui, this time with interest. Another football player to add to his list. He couldn't remember if he was any good, but if he was Agon's brother, then he probably had a fair chance.

"Yeah," Hiruma grinned. "Football's great." He was happily surprised that Unsui actually cared about joining a team. If he had Agon's skill without his apathy, he would definitely be an ace in high school. He wondered if Unsui knew which schools he wanted to apply for yet.

"_You're _gonna play football, Unko-chan?" Agon snorted. Hiruma watched the way Unsui braced himself against Agon's dismissive comment, set it aside with the ease of long practice. But he obviously believed that what Agon implied was true.

"Just because you're too fucking lazy to do something with your life," Hiruma muttered.

"Ha?" Agon said.

"I said you're a fucking waste of talent," Hiruma repeated more audibly. Agon bristled. He shoved his way into Hiruma's space, but before he could do anything, Unsui spoke again.

"What position do you play?"

He's so fucking polite, Hiruma thought. The older Kongo twin amused him, but his interruptions were starting to be irritating, like he was trying to protect Hiruma from Agon. Like he felt sorry for him or something.

So he snorted and cackled as darkly as he could. "Play? I like football for the gambling."

"Yeah, a skinny shit like you playing football would be even more hilarious than Unko-chan," Agon shot. He turned just slightly, but the change in position made it so that the both of them were facing Unsui together, like some kind of pair. And in a way, they were together on this point. Hiruma used football for entertainment, but he'd never intended to actually play it. He wanted the thrill it gave his intelligence, not the bruises and broken bones it gave its players. Agon probably had no solid reasons for dismissing football, except that it was a waste of time compared to what he considered fun. Which was basically Hiruma's point as well.

Unsui seemed to hesitate, his eyes flickering between them. He stepped to the side, as if to leave, but his eyes lingered on Agon, who wasn't moving.

Rather half-heartedly, Hiruma pulled out his notebook from his back pocket. "Kongo Unsui," he read, meeting Agon's eyes over the washed-out pages. "I may not have much blackmail on you, but you're not a fucking altar boy, either."

"Especially considering what you did last week with Dad's car," Agon added. Unsui paled and moved away, obviously taking the hint.

"So now you check up on my brother, too?" Agon said, leaning over Hiruma to try and get a look at the notebook.

"I didn't even know you had a brother," Hiruma answered, shoving his gun against Agon's forehead to keep him back.

"Then the notebook was a bluff," Agon said smugly. "You needed me to get him to leave. You're _welcome._"

Hiruma pulled out his paper with the football stats on it again. "I would have bluffed through it. I do it the rest of the time when you're not here."

He waited for Agon to leave, but the boy continued to hover over him.

"What?" Hiruma snapped.

"Give me a job. I'm bored." His voice was a little too forceful to be natural and he was looking out the window instead of at Hiruma.

Hiruma's eyebrows arched. "If I had a job for you, you'd be doing it, fucking dreads."

"Well, find something! The last one was ages ago."

"One week," Hiruma corrected absently. He looked down at his paper, but he wasn't really focusing on it. No wonder Agon had come to talk when he'd seen Hiruma on the train. He must have thought that Hiruma had a job for him. They definitely understood each other on that point; they only met up when the situation was useful for both of them, meaning when Hiruma got blackmail material out of it and Agon got entertainment. Friends they were not, and that's exactly what made it work.

"Do you have time right now?" Hiruma heard himself ask as an idea occurred to him.

"Depends where we're going."

Anticipation ran down Hiruma's skin. Yes, he had a job, one that he'd planned to do alone. It would be interesting to see how Agon reacted, to see if he could also use him for this kind of thing. Hiruma was careful not to let the emotion show on his face, the feeling of excitement he got when he was waiting to see if his prediction would prove true.

"We're getting off at the next stop, fucking dreads," he said. "Get ready for a challenge."

"Ha?" Agon said. "Like anything you could think up would be a challenge. I'm a genius, remember?" But he still pulled out his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. Hiruma twirled his gun in his hands, working out the details of the break-in in his mind. It would be a lot of improvising, but that's what made it fun.

Cha-click.

Hiruma cocked his gun as he and Agon approached a ten-story office building. Weapons were so much more exciting when they were actually loaded.

Another gun appeared in his hand, which he held out to Agon. Eyes behind dark glasses held a flicker of irritation.

"I don't need a weapon," he said with all his usual aggression, but Hiruma detected a hint of unease.

"They're rubber bullets, fucking dreads," Hiruma said in a tone that was as close to reassuring as he got. "And we're not firing at people."

Agon shoved the gun away anyway, so Hiruma pocketed it again. It didn't matter. He was one focus – to think quickly enough to fool his way through an entire group of executives that were so sure that they were so fucking _smart, _that a kid couldn't be clever enough to trick them –

The fucking dreads' voice interrupted his thoughts. "The hell are we doing, anyway?"

They reached the corner of the building and stopped. Hiruma grinned up at Agon, who was glaring at the gun twirling in his right hand.

"See that building? We're gonna sneak in, set off the fire alarm, then raid their personnel files while they're outside. After that, I can use the info we find to blackmail the president of this company into giving me a room in the hotel he owns." Yes, Hiruma had been looking forward to this. He was still paying for the room he was living in right now, and he'd taken a long time to decide which was the best hotel to live in.

"So what the hell do I get out of this?" Agon snapped. Hiruma turned to him, eyebrows arched. He blew a bubble.

"I'm sure there's at least one pretty girl in there for you," he said. "You can rob their desks, too, if you like."

Agon's fists clenched and he seemed like he was trying to keep from punching Hiruma, interestingly enough. "If I don't even get to kick someone's ass, then this isn't worth it," he spat. His expression was all disdain and arrogance, as if Hiruma had let him down by misunderstanding him completely.

He cackled. "Kekeke, at least you're fucking honest." A small bit of grudging respect for Agon crawled out of Hiruma. No excuses, no trying to convince him not to commit another crime, just bluntly saying that he was a violent bastard who wanted to smash someone in the face. And no desire to deceive people. All force and no manipulation. Interesting. And exactly what Hiruma had wanted to find out. Another piece of info about Kongo Agon to add to his growing folder.

Hiruma glanced again at the building. He could do it on his own another day, now that he'd gotten what he'd wanted. Going now wouldn't be the best idea; Agon might hang around and mess it up for him.

"Well?" he said. "Why are you still standing here?" He trained his gun on Agon's forehead. "I told you from the start that I don't have any jobs for you today."

Agon's eye twitched unmistakably, his shoulders tensing, before he relaxed slightly. Like he was pushing down his temper. Hiruma thought he could follow his train of thought. He was still bored, no matter where he went now, but didn't want to admit that Hiruma was the most interesting thing he'd found in a long time.

It was exactly how Hiruma had felt when he'd first crawled through the fence at the American base.

"Want to come watch a football game?" Hiruma asked before he had a chance to think it through.

"Ha?" Agon said, like Hiruma had just insulted him. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, trash. I've got nothing better to do."

Hiruma popped another bubble, readjusting his understanding of Agon once again. He was almost reluctant to lead Agon to the base, but the other boy could just follow him if he really wanted to be annoying. Besides, Hiruma thought, it might lead to him playing football. Fat chance, but what the heck. High school would definitely be more interesting with Kongo Agon on the field, arrogance and all.

"Keep up, fucking dreads," Hiruma said as he led the way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sound of footsteps coming toward Hiruma didn't even make him glance up, although one hand did twitch towards his gun.

"Hiruma Youichi," growled a voice.

Hiruma went back to typing. If these fools of gang members hadn't realized that any efforts to intimidate him were useless, then they never would.

"I'm talking to you!"

His fingers sped up slightly in irritation, but he continued to ignore the group to his right. They were standing in the middle of a park in broad daylight, for chrissakes. Some nice old woman would probably call the cops the moment she saw a gang of thugs picking on some nice boy who was just doing homework on his laptop. Hiruma snorted at the thought.

"You laughing at me, punk?" said the voice.

Hiruma finally looked up as he heard the steps come a bit closer. There were four of them, but they were still standing a good ten feet away. The one in front was already shaking in his fake leather boots.

"Our boss is calling you out," he said. "I've got the info for the meeting place right here. If you don't show up…"

Hiruma's gaze returned to the screen on front of him. He recognized them from two days earlier, when he'd walked in on their leader robbing a gas station. He'd gotten a good batch of photos out of that one. It didn't take long to bring up his folder for the older boy in front of him.

He dared to take another step forward and held his hands up defensively. "If you don't show up, well… you see, my friends here…"

"Don't bring us into this!" yelped one of the other boys, panicking.

Surprisingly, Hiruma had no info on the one talking beyond the fact that he was a member of this gang. Annoying.

He pulled out his machine gun. "You idiots have three fucking seconds to stop pissing me off."

They froze.

"One."

"B-boss will kill us if we run away!"

"Two." He trained it on the group, his index finger tapping the trigger impatiently. He thought he heard a whimper.

"Three!" He looked up at them with a demonic grin, but it was unnecessary. All four boys had already disappeared.

"Predictable," Hiruma scoffed. He put his gun away and returned his focus to his laptop. A quick check of his clock told him it was still an hour before noon.

It was finally the first day of the fall tournament for high school football. Hiruma had been waiting until now to start researching the high school teams. None of the starting players would still be in school by the time he got there, but he could start to analyze the different style of play each team had. Combined with the player data of the junior high students, he would be able to predict which teams would be the strongest even before the tournaments started. Today's first game was between the Oujou White Knights and the Juujika Priests.

He hoped the game would be interesting. Both teams seemed to exude a polite atmosphere that Hiruma thought was wildly out of place in a sport like American football. It seemed obvious that Oujou would win with its "Golden Generation" – which Hiruma still thought was a lame name and a wasted opportunity for intimidation – but there was always the chance that the Priests had improved since the spring tournament. The odds were low, but not nil.

His thoughts wandered back to a few nights ago, when he'd watched yet another game at the American base. Now that was football as it should be played – violent and primitive, but still calculated somehow. But Hiruma had predicted the outcome too easily. It wasn't that difficult with the same players every time, even if they did switch up the team combinations. Even though he didn't expect the high school athletes to be as skilled, the sheer number of teams and the variables each player introduced were sure to be worth watching. He couldn't imagine choosing one team and rooting for it like most fans did. The fun was all in the complexity of watching the number of teams dwindle until they ended at the finals.

Half an hour, and then he'd head out for Oujou's field. He wasn't worried about finding a good seat. Even people who had never met him tended to get out of his way when they saw the gun barrel poking out of his bag. The only matter was waiting for the fucking dreads to show up. Hiruma bet he was still asleep.

Ever since that first football game they'd seen together – two weeks ago, now – Agon had watched three more with Hiruma. Once again, he'd been slightly surprised. He'd expected Agon to stay for the first few minutes and then leave, but he'd watched through the whole game and listened to Hiruma's explanation of the rules. Leaning against the chain link fence with another person had felt weird. Japan didn't have much appreciation for American football, and when they did play it they often toned it down, tried to make it more fucking polite. Hiruma scowled, familiar threads of irritation pulling his mind along. To have a brilliant mind for strategy and waste it on something _civilized _like fucking shogi…

He shook his head. He needed more distractions.

11:15. He'd wait fifteen more minutes before leaving. He could call the fucking dreads, but he didn't much care whether or not he went. He was only waiting because Agon had said he wanted to come and Hiruma didn't want to deal with him just showing up at the stands and messing up everything with his complaints. Humoring him seemed to be the easiest way to deal with him. Funny, for such a brute to act like such a child. Hiruma wondered what he'd be like as a football player.

"Hey, trash."

"And with ten minutes to spare," Hiruma said. "Let's fucking go before some idiot fan girls take the good seats."

He shut his laptop and tucked it under his arm.

"This better not be a waste of time," Agon said. He was just inches away from Hiruma and wearing his sunglasses for some reason.

"You invited yourself," Hiruma reminded him. "Go home if you're not interested."

Agon snorted and followed him out of the park.

"God, _this _is the shit you're planning to waste all your weekends on until Christmas?" Agon leaned back in his seat, draping his arms across the fence behind them. They were in the very last row of the stands so that Hiruma could scribble down interesting formations if he saw any. Which he hadn't.

Hiruma almost felt like agreeing with Agon. "This is just the preliminaries," he said instead. "Wait until Oujou plays Seibu. Right now they're being fucking lazy." A part of him was fuming inside, even though he understood the logic. Why give away your best plays against mediocre players?

Agon continued to fidget next to him, stretching out his legs and kicking the people in front of them so that he could rest his feet on the bench. The couple sitting there turned around to yell at him, but backed away slowly instead.

"Calm down. You're scaring the mortals, fucking dreads," Hiruma cackled.

"Damn straight," Agon retorted.

Oujou blew apart Juujika's line once again and scored their fourth touchdown. Hiruma caught himself just before he sighed with boredom. He glanced sideways at Agon, whose eyes were glazing over, and was considering whether it would be worth the effort to draw him into a serious discussion about each team when someone caught his eye.

Two rows down and several feet behind Agon sat a black-haired boy in an Oujou middle school uniform, a second year like them. Hiruma would have recognized him a mile away.

"There's someone who'll be interesting to watch," Hiruma said, elbowing Agon in the ribs. "Shin Seijuro. He's going to be a monster by the time he gets to high school."

Agon's forehead wrinkled for a moment before his eyebrows appeared above the lenses. "Doesn't look like much." The disdain was back in his voice.

"You'd take that back if you could see him play," Hiruma said with a grin. "He looks passive, but he's nothing like gentle. I'd bet my pointy ears that if he was on the field, Oujou wouldn't be taking it easy. He's a genius who actually works hard." He glanced quickly at Agon out of the corner of his eye.

The fucking dreads looked insulted. "Bet he still couldn't take me," he grumbled.

"We'll never know, will we? Unless you suddenly turn into your brother and start playing sports."

"That'll be the day," Agon said with a short laugh. He placed a hand on Hiruma's head and shoved it down so it was only an inch away from his laptop screen. "Come on, let's ditch this place and find someone to beat up."

Hiruma agreed only because it was obvious that he wasn't going to learn anything worth knowing here. He shoved Agon's arm away and closed his laptop. They stood up in unison and both cast a glance at Shin.

"Really doesn't look like much," Agon repeated. Hiruma kicked him lazily.

"Come on, let's go ride the trains or something. There's got to be a princess for you to save somewhere."

Agon pushed ahead of him on the stairs, obviously impatient. Hiruma looked back one last time, wondering if it would be worth it to watch some of the middle school games, too. He felt scowling eyes on the back of his head and turned back around to blow a bubble in Agon's face.

"Hurry up, fucking dreads," he said, kicking him again.

A string of swearwords rang out near Hiruma's ear as he emptied a bottle of hydrogen peroxide over Agon's right hand.

"Fucking take it," Hiruma snapped. "I can't believe I'm even doing this for you." He dabbed away the clear liquid that ran across the raw cuts on Agon's fist, not bothering to be gentle. During their ride on the train, Hiruma had spotted an old pervert molesting a high school girl. While Agon was punching his face in, Hiruma had busied himself with the man's briefcase, recording addresses and phone numbers as well as taking photos of every document there was, in case they said something useful. He'd finished and turned around to find Agon's hand bleeding and the train window shattered behind him.

"It's your fault it happened, trash!" Agon snarled, jerking his hand away. He was seated on Hiruma's bed, while the blonde was in his desk chair. "Believe me, I wish it was a chick bandaging me up right now."

Hiruma snapped his gum as he unrolled some gauze. "You could have gone off with the girl."

"She was ugly!"

"So why the hell did you put your hand through a window for her?"

Agon shoved his hand towards Hiruma again imperiously. "She looked fine from behind," he spat. "Pretty girls should come with labels so that there aren't mix-ups like this."

"The world is just so fucking inconvenient for you."

Agon didn't respond, just watched Hiruma wrap his beefy hand quickly and efficiently. When Hiruma was done, he kicked against the bed to roll back towards his desk. "You're gonna be useless for a week or so. God, you're an idiot," he said tonelessly, mostly to break the silence.

He didn't like the way he felt Agon's eyes lingering on him again. It was bad enough that he'd followed him to his hotel room and demanded that he wrap the hand before it became infected. Hiruma didn't care so much about privacy, but the thought that Agon might randomly show up here bothered him. He didn't want to be at the fucking dreads' beck and call. That only went one way.

He glared up at Agon. "Well, get out of here. I already missed Seibu's first game because of you. Now I have to go hack the school's computers and see if anyone uploaded the video."

"You don't get to order me around, trash," Agon said, but the bite wasn't really in his tone. He lay back on Hiruma's bed. For all his strength, he still had the body of a skinny middle school student. Even so, Hiruma could trace the forming muscles with his narrowed eyes, tight cords under tanned skin. He thought, as he always did, about what a waste of talent Kongo Agon was.

He decided to ignore him in the hope that he would go away soon and pulled out his laptop.

"Are you married to that thing or what?"

Hiruma only noted in the back of his mind that Agon had spoken. His focus had already completely centered on the machine in front of him. As he uploaded the photos he'd taken on the train, he began to search for any videos of Seibu's game.

"It's a good thing we did miss the Seibu game. What boring shit. You're really gonna do this every Sunday until, what is it called, Christmas Bowl? Boooooooring. I thought you had better taste in what was actually fun. I hope you don't think I'm going to come with you to all those games. I've got better things to do."

Then go do them, Hiruma thought. He came across a Seibu fansite that had an amateur video posted and smirked. Lucky…

"Maybe if you ask real nice I'll go with you. Then you won't have to sit alone in the stands like the pathetic trash you are. Although maybe you'd like that better, so you can just obsess over Shin Seijuro by yourself. God, you practically got a fucking boner for him today, you fag. Is that what makes you like football so much? You into guys? You're skinny enough like a girl and you've got those stupid earrings."

Hiruma shot him a look that was a mix of annoyance, skepticism, and honest surprise. "What the fuck are you even talking about?"

The look of cold rage that exploded across Agon's features made Hiruma's eyebrows shoot up. Then it was gone, replaced by a carefully controlled sneer. He sat up and reached across the room to drag Hiruma's chair back up against the bed. He snatched the laptop from his hands.

Immediately Hiruma bombarded him with kicks and shoves as he followed Agon onto the bed and tried to get the computer back. Agon didn't even flinch.

He scoffed when he saw the video playing on the screen. "Is football really all you think about?" But Hiruma could see that the video of Seibu's game had already distracted him.

"Now here's a fucking team," Hiruma said, relenting his attack since Agon obviously wasn't about to trash the laptop. "They didn't hold back. Pure offense."

They watched the violent clash in silence for a few minutes before Agon asked a question about one of the plays and Hiruma began to describe it in detail to him. Surprisingly, Agon could actually remain calm for more than five fucking seconds when he was watching a football game that interested him. He had all the rules down, but he still didn't know the different strategies as well as Hiruma did. Probably because he hadn't gone out and immediately read every football rulebook he could find when he'd discovered the game, like Hiruma had. Agon just relied on Hiruma to answer his questions as they came up.

"That receiver is about to get destroyed," Hiruma said just seconds before the said player was thrown to the ground. When the crowd of players cleared and the medic took him away, it looked like he had broken his arm.

"How did you know?" Agon asked.

"Simple," Hiruma said. "He was moving too slow. There was no way the defense was going to let him go."

"It's probably a good thing that I don't want to play this sport," Agon said. "I'd trash everyone on the field within the first quarter."

"Playing football isn't the same thing as beating up some shits in an alleyway."

"When's the next game at the American base?" Agon asked abruptly.

"What, suddenly you like football now? Are you _excited, _fucking dreads, like a 5-year-old getting ready to go to the amusement park for the first time?" Hiruma cackled. "Did Seibu win you over with its brilliant plays?"

Agon growled and slammed the computer shut. Hiruma fell back on the bed laughing, just because he knew it would piss off Agon even more. He hissed as he felt a bandaged hand seize his wrist and yank him back up. Even that brief touch would probably leave a bruise.

"Fucking brute," he spat, rubbing the red skin. Agon looked rather pleased with himself.

"Why are you even wasting your time on this?" he said, his tone a little less offensive than before.

Ah, what the hell. "I'm gonna start a gambling ring for high school football," Hiruma said. "I'm gathering info so I can calculate the odds accurately." And then maybe he wouldn't be so bored all the time. Dozens of ways to win and lose with every game.

"So you'll probably need help with that, like breaking into the locker rooms or something."

"Why the hell would I?" Hiruma asked, completely without sarcasm for once in his life. "All I need to do is watch the games, maybe spy on some of the practice – "

"And you're too fucking weak to do it yourself," Agon barreled on. "So I'll meet you at the same place next Sunday."

And then he was gone, the door shutting firmly behind him, but not slamming. Hiruma raised his eyebrows again.

He had only three jobs left that he could use Agon for; after that, he'd been expecting the other boy to just go back to finding people to mug on his own. But recently he'd been sticking around more after Hiruma had gathered his blackmail evidence. It had started with that time he'd taken him to the base, and now it looked like Agon was planning on bothering him even after he was done with the jobs.

Well, fine. Maybe Hiruma would still be able to use him without gathering more blackmail on him. That just made things easier for him.

He glanced once more at the door, unable to completely ignore the uncertainty he still felt. Then he moved back to his desk and opened his laptop once again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Hey trash, where are you? I'm bored." Agon was shouting over the sound of street traffic. Hiruma thought he heard someone groan in the background. There were several thumps and a high shout before Agon's voice came back. "Well?"

"Watching one of Shinryuuji's practice matches. Come out if you're bored."

A series of noises that were probably caused by Agon punching someone came through the phone. Hiruma shifted his attention to the game in front of him. None of these players would still be in high school by the time he started his first year, but he could still learn tactics. Even in a practice match against a stupidly weak team, the Shinryuuji Naga weren't holding back.

He watched as Shinryuuji's running back broke through the center and sacked the quarterback. Too easy. Hiruma wondered if it would even be worth running bets on the championships. Shinryuuji dominated everyone each year, and even after that the win always went to Teikoku. No one sane would bet against them.

"On second thought, fucking dreads, don't bother. Nothing interesting here to see," Hiruma said into the phone, which had been silent for the past few minutes.

"Haa? I'm already halfway there."

"Whatever, I'll just – fuck."

"Fuck _what_, what the hell are you – "

Hiruma snapped his phone closed, cutting off the sound of Agon's voice. Before he could stand up, however, the fucking fatty had spotted him.

"Hirumaaa!"

Hiruma snapped his gum in irritation. Shoving his laptop into his bag, he kept his eyes on the field, as if he hadn't heard. Everything from the dark scowl on his face to the AK-47 that had suddenly appeared in his hands should have been enough to keep anyone away.

"Hiruma, you came to watch Shinryuuji, too! Isn't it fun? Doesn't it make you want to play American football?"

Maybe it's his obsession with football that doesn't make him afraid, Hiruma thought. Or maybe he's just a fucking idiot.

Two days earlier, Kurita Ryoukan had found Hiruma on the school roof and hadn't left him alone since. Hiruma had never met anyone more annoying. It wasn't just that none of Hiruma's threats worked on him; the fucking fatty followed him around trying to recruit him to his football club without even really giving him any incentive to join. It was as if he honestly couldn't understand how Hiruma could like football without wanting to play it.

Hiruma's first thought had been that he should just force the principal to shut down the club, but…

"Hiruma, what do you think of the quarterback? You could probably play that position. Hiruma is smart. Are there any others that you would want to play? I probably couldn't do anything besides the line, but that's okay! I think the line is the best – wait, where are you going?!"

"To find something interesting to do," Hiruma snarled. He immediately regretted it. He should have stayed silent. Something about Kurita made him halfway honest, though. His earnestness, maybe. Or that fact that he actually seemed to care what Hiruma was going to do. Hiruma wished he hadn't let Kurita see the American base. It's not like Hiruma couldn't have reopened that hole in the fence himself – he'd done it twice before – but hearing the fucking fatty say that he didn't want to selfishly prevent Hiruma from getting through…

Hiruma was at the bottom of the stands, and a quick glance backwards told him that Kurita had stayed where he was. Maybe he was finally going to give up. Good.

At the school gate, he ran into Agon.

"Fucking took you long enough," he said, walking straight past him. "Hurry up, we've got something to do."

Agon only hesitated slightly before following him.

"You look weird in red."

Hiruma pushed his crumpled school uniform into his bag and tugged slightly at the dark red tank top he'd changed into. He felt uncomfortable enough in the bright color without the fucking dreads whining about it. At least his black jeans were the ones he normally wore.

"It's a club," he said shortly. "Our school uniforms would keep us from getting in."

"So put on a t-shirt or something," Agon said. Hiruma rolled his eyes.

"Here," he said, handing him a slate grey v-neck and jeans.

"This looks like a girl's shirt!"

"Fucking put it on! It's better than the leopard monstrosity you always wear!"

Agon sneered but obliged. Hiruma was interested to note that he ducked into the bathroom to change. Hiruma wouldn't have pegged the other boy as modest in any sense of the word.

They were in Hiruma's hotel room. On the way there from the Shinryuuji game, Hiruma had explained his plan for that night's job. It was the twelfth job he had for Agon, the last one. He had wanted to make sure that it was something big.

He'd gotten word last week that some American cops were visiting the neighborhood. They were just on vacation, but they'd caught Hiruma's attention because their vacation had been anything but innocent. He knew for sure that tonight they were going to an underground gambling party that played with extremely high stakes. Definitely illegal, and definitely grounds for a scandal, should news about it get back to their superiors in the US.

Hiruma grinned. He wasn't planning on visiting America anytime soon, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Agon emerged again from the bathroom, sulking. The light jeans were fitted, but not tight like Hiruma's. The shirt hung a little loose as well. Hiruma wanted to make sure that Agon had plenty of room to move in case fighting became necessary. His plan was to use Agon to draw attention in the main part of the club and sneak upstairs under the cover of the distraction. If Agon was his usual attention-whoring self, it would work. The hard part would be taking the photos unnoticed.

"You look weird in red," Agon said again.

"Get over it, fucking broken record."

Agon stayed silent as Hiruma removed everything from his pockets and bag – including two packs of rubber bullets and his HK – except for his wallet and his cell phone.

"You're going in without your gun and laptop?" Agon said incredulously.

"Obviously," Hiruma snorted. "No one running an illegal gambling party would let someone with a gun in." He crouched down to tie his shoelaces.

"And the laptop?"

"Too bulky. Christ, what's with the questions?"

"Nothing," Agon grumbled. He crossed his arms and nudged Hiruma's bed with his foot. "This isn't going to be another dumb undercover thing like that time at the hotel, is it? Because if it's just going to be boring – "

"If you don't want to come, then fucking leave!" Hiruma snapped, surging up to face Agon. His week had been annoying enough without dealing with Agon right now, too. "I already explained the plan to you. If it sounds too _boring _for you, then get the hell out of my room and stop calling me when you don't have anything to do!"

Hiruma turned away, but not quickly enough to miss the surprised expression on Agon's face. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses, which made his wide eyes and slack features all the more apparent. Hiruma ignored it and slipped his black notebook into his back pocket from his desk.

After two minutes had passed and Agon still hadn't budged, Hiruma glanced back at him. His eyes were narrowed into his regular scowl again.

"Who the hell shoved a stick up your ass?" Agon asked, still in that sneering, disdainful way he had.

"Nobody," Hiruma muttered. "Are you coming or what?"

Agon shrugged and began to pull on his shoes. "I just can't think of anything better to do," he said, like he still needed to justify his decision.

Hiruma felt somewhat relieved. As much as Agon tended to annoy him, he really did want him as backup going into this club. Hiruma had no illusions about his own physical strength. If he was spotted, things would go south very quickly, and Hiruma had no chance of fighting back by himself. For all his experience in sneaking around places he had no business being near, Hiruma felt uneasy about tonight's plan. There were too many things that could go wrong. Normally he would have ignored a target with such a high risk for such a low return. He snapped his gum one last time before spitting it out. He hated it when he couldn't understand his own motives.

"Come on, fucking dreads," he said, his tone a little more reconciliatory. "Try not to look like you're ready to start any trouble."

He felt a rough hand chop through his spiky hair. Hiruma could picture the look on Agon's face easily, the anticipation hiding behind a smirk. A grin reappeared on his own face in response.

"Let's get this done," he said, leading the way out of his room.

Why the hell am I doing this again, Hiruma asked himself for the third time that night. He watched Agon carefully from the dark corner where he'd seated himself. They'd gotten into the club with surprisingly little trouble – lucky for them, they looked older than most middle school students. Hiruma had immediately shoved Agon towards the bar and disappeared into the crowd as best as he was able. From his spot, he could see that Agon was doing his job fairly well. He already had three women hanging around him and was attracting pissed off glances from the other men in the bar. But it was almost too much. If one of the men decided to pick a fight, Agon wasn't likely to hold back, and then Hiruma's plan was screwed.

It irked Hiruma, how stubborn he was being about these policemen. Really, he had no need to gather blackmail material on them. The job was too dangerous, unnecessarily risky… which was exactly why Hiruma insisted on seeing it through. It was a challenge – a pointless one that only he would consider a victory, but a challenge nonetheless. It was something he would never be able to accomplish on his own, but by using the tools at his disposal, he would figure out a way to break the owners of this club and the American policemen as well.

By tool, he of course meant Kongo Agon. It didn't matter that Hiruma wasn't strong if he got a substitute to do the work for him.

As Agon began to brag loudly to a fourth woman about some fight he'd won, Hiruma slipped behind the bar and ducked through a back door. The bartender didn't notice him, and the staircase behind the door was empty. The steps were narrow and made of tile, for which Hiruma was grateful because it meant that he didn't have to deal with any creaking noises. They led up to a clean, if cramped, hallway that contained two doors. One was cracked open, so that Hiruma could see that it was just a storage room. The one farthest away was shut tight, but cigarette smoke leaked from the bottom. Hiruma's eyes narrowed. Should he hide in the storage closet and just take pictures of them coming out?

The _snick _of a door being unlocked sounded behind him, and Hiruma spun around. Shit, there's a third door, he thought. Before he could move, a blonde American emerged and spotted him.

"Hiruma?"

"Fucking buzz," Hiruma said in greeting, relieved. It was one of the soldiers from the base, so nicknamed because of the buzzed blonde hair that covered his head.

"What are you doing in here, kid?" the soldier asked. "It's not a place for middle school students. Then again, I guess those rules don't really apply to you."

Hiruma just grinned as confidently as he could. He would have to bluff his way through this.

"Aw, heck," said the soldier. "I'll bring you in to the game. I'm gonna lose anyway; might as well watch everyone else lose, too."

Hiruma cackled as he followed the soldier into the room. Maybe this was even better. If he could get the men to owe him money, then it would be just as good as having blackmail info on them.

There were four men crowded around a card table inside, two Japanese and two Americans. Hiruma watched carefully as the soldier explained to one of the Japanese men who Hiruma was and asked permission for him to play. The man was big, definitely bigger than Agon, but had a calm air about him, like someone who was used to things going his way. Everything about him screamed Mafia boss to Hiruma.

His grin sharpened slightly. Definitely someone he wanted under his control.

The man finally agreed and Hiruma plopped down next to the soldier. As the cards were dealt, he studied the two cops carefully. They had matching varsity jackets, black and covered in patches, which meant they were probably partners. They seemed comfortable, not at all like people who were newcomers to this kind of game. Hiruma was willing to bet they did the same kind of thing in the US.

Three hands later, Hiruma was cackling as all four men threw down their cards in defeat. His soldier friend was smiling knowingly. He hadn't even bothered to keep playing when Hiruma had joined in. The boss glowered at Hiruma as he pulled the pile of cash towards him. No IOUs so far, but Hiruma had already managed to snap ten pictures while the cops weren't looking, which took care of that. And the way the boss was regarding Hiruma, he wouldn't be surprised if he kept trying to beat him until he was bankrupt.

The two cops stood up and said something in English. Hiruma picked up enough to gather that they were calling it quits. The look on the boss's face darkened.

"You tell them to sit back down," he said to the other Japanese man at the table. He hesitated only slightly before repeating what the boss had said in English.

The cops exchanged a look and shook their heads. Lifting their hands to wave goodbye, they started to move towards the door.

The boss stood up and slammed his hand against the table, sending the stack of cards flying. Instead of stopping the cops once again, he turned his glare towards Hiruma. "You just cost me two customers. You'll give back all the money you just won."

Hiruma leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head. "Kekeke, maybe we can talk about a – "

A fist plunged into his nose and grabbed the front of his shirt in the same movement. The boss flicked out a knife and pointed it towards the soldier before either of them could move. Hiruma heard the door to the room shut as the cops hurried out. Fucking cowards.

"We don't talk," the boss said. "You'll be lucky if I let you leave here uninjured."

Against his better judgment and almost as a reflex, Hiruma cackled and said, "Too late, fucking muscles. You already broke my nose."

The blade darted towards Hiruma, but before it could make contact, they were interrupted by a loud crash.

The boss barely had time to say, "Wha – " before Agon's hand closed over his grip on the knife and squeezed. Hiruma distinctly heard the bones crunching. The boss's other hand dropped Hiruma's shirt and scrabbled against Agon's fist, trying to pry his fingers away. Agon wrenched the knife away with his left hand, punched the boss in the gut, and kneed him in the nose as he bent over. Agon was on the second man even before the first had hit the ground.

"Fucking took you long enough," Hiruma spat. He touched his nose gingerly. It wasn't broken, despite his taunt, but it was already starting to swell.

"You're welcome!" Agon shouted as he continued to pound the second man's face.

"Hiruma…" the soldier stuttered. Hiruma suddenly remembered his friend still standing behind him.

"Get lost, fucking buzz," he said softly, nodding towards the door. "Sorry, I probably ruined this game for you."

The soldier shook his head, muttered something about crazy middle schoolers, and hurried away. Hiruma grinned after him. God, was he going to get a lecture next time he went to the base…

"That's enough, fucking dreads," Hiruma said as Agon came back to the boss and kicked him again.

"He's the one who hit you, isn't he?"

"Who the fuck cares? I want a picture of him being trashed by a middle school student while he's still recognizable." He pulled out his phone and snapped a couple while Agon disappeared into the hallway. Hiruma gathered up the cash that had spilled onto the floor just to spite the boss and pocketed it. He'd probably need it to appease Agon anyway, since it didn't look like he was going to get a girl out of this mess.

Out in the hallway, Hiruma found Agon standing over the two cops who had left earlier.

"Shit, you trashed them, too?" Hiruma said, camera already clicking away.

"Ran into them when I was coming up the stairs," Agon explained. He bent down and tugged the jacket off of one of them. "Here," he said, tossing it at Hiruma. "It's black, like you normally wear, trash."

"Are you still going on about that?" Hiruma asked, even as he shrugged the jacket on. It was big, but not uncomfortably so. Agon grabbed the other one.

"I told you, you look like shit in red!" Agon growled. Hiruma rolled his eyes.

"We probably can't go out the front without anyone noticing," he muttered, looking around. His eyes lighted on a window at the end of the hallway. "Think you can force that open, fucking dreads?"

Agon scoffed and ripped the screen off the frame, then used it to smash open the window.

"Way to be subtle," Hiruma said wryly as they were assaulted by the cold wind.

"What the fuck ever," Agon said, already crawling through. Hiruma cackled and followed him.

The shout bounced off the alley walls like a superball. Hiruma cursed as he ducked behind a dumpster, Agon following close.

Brown eyes and light blue shared a glance in the shadows as the sound of footsteps stopped a few feet from their hiding place. So much for sneaking away.

"Shit," Agon muttered, pressing back against Hiruma a little more. Knives and at least one gun glinted in the streetlight. Hiruma counted eight pairs of legs.

More shouts. They couldn't just wait to be discovered. Hiruma tried to quickly think of a distraction he could make, something to take the men out of the alleyway.

"Here," Agon grunted. He shoved his stolen jacket at Hiruma and jumped straight into the knot of men.

"Wha – " Hiruma said, starting in surprise, but Agon was already gone, moving with savage grace as he dodged the men's weapons and broke every bone within reach. Four more men came running and were immediately tripped up as Agon threw two others into them. He shook off one who tried to grab his leg and sent an elbow into another's face.

Half of the men were down within a minute. The rest were trying to group into some kind of order, but Agon wasn't giving them enough time. Two more crashed to the ground and the gun Hiruma had seen earlier went flying. He jumped out from behind the dumpster and caught it, bringing it up instantly to point at four men who were left. No one noticed him.

Hiruma's grip on the gun tightened comfortably. He surveyed the scene carefully as Agon pummeled the last remaining four men with apparent ease. He needed to think of a way to keep them from coming after him and Agon again later… but blackmail probably wouldn't stop them, not from getting revenge on the kids who had sullied their pride…

He shot the first bullet into the air, then into the group of men after everyone froze. He aimed carefully, hitting asphalt and brick just inches from arms and legs and nowhere near Agon. But he kept his expression calm, eyes narrowed in anger and annoyance. He had to look like it didn't make a difference to him whether these men lost a finger, an ear, or a life.

It worked. The men were raising their arms in surrender. Hiruma jerked his head at Agon, signaling for him to step back. He went along with the act, thankfully. Hiruma lifted the gun again.

"The only reason none of you are dead is because I don't want any more blood on my clothes. Fucking get lost and I'll forget this ever happened."

The men hesitated as Hiruma prayed that they would fall for his bluff. He fought to keep his shoulders from tensing. He had to look stronger than the boss they'd just trashed, strong enough to be a threat.

Agon cracked his knuckles impatiently and rolled one of his shoulders. He shot Hiruma a look of impatience, like he was asking for permission to finish them off after all.

That did the trick. The men scrambled away without even helping their unconscious friends off the ground. Hiruma turned casually, the gun still hanging loosely in his hand, and strolled away, Agon close behind. They didn't speak until they had gone five blocks, zigzagging through alleys in order to stay off main streets.

Then Hiruma finally relaxed, leaning against a wall and letting the gun drop from his fingers. He tried to ignore the shaking in his hands, telling himself that it was just adrenaline.

Agon slipped back into the jacket he'd picked up again and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

It took Hiruma a couple minutes before he felt able to speak. "How did you even know to come upstairs?"

"You were taking too long," Agon said dismissively. His sneakers scuffed against cement as he stepped a little closer to Hiruma. "And if you hadn't expected me to fight, then you wouldn't have brought me along."

Hiruma regarded Agon, really looked at him, at the boy who was proving himself to be much more than just a tool. Seeing his figure dressed in a jacket that matched his own, Hiruma felt a strange kinship with him. He had played along with the show that Hiruma had put on for the men in the alley, predicting Hiruma's actions well enough to know what he was trying to do. He had done it perfectly, without a word of instruction. Weighing him with his eyes, Hiruma adjusted his mental image of Kongo Agon once again.

"Thanks, fucking dreads," he finally said, a little too quickly. Agon looked up, meeting his gaze carefully, but fearlessly. Hiruma smirked.

"What?" Agon asked, his tone defensive.

"You look like a fucking beast," Hiruma cackled. "You've got blood everywhere." He used his sleeve to wipe a splatter of red off of Agon's cheekbone. Remembering his own nose, he lifted up the hem of his shirt to wipe away the blood he felt trickling onto his top lip. "It's a wonder those shitheads took me seriously. They must not have been able to see in the light." He glanced up to ask Agon if he'd split his knuckles again and was met by a gaze like a machine gun.

A rough hand hooked around the back of his neck and dragged him closer into a kiss that was more bite than anything. Hiruma snarled and pushed against Agon's shoulders, but he just grabbed Hiruma's thin hands and pinned them to his chest. He fought against the sudden invasion of his space, but Agon didn't even budge, just pressed him closer. _Fucking horny bastard, _Hiruma tried to growl, but the words wouldn't quite form. Agon shifted and started to kiss him properly.

A sharp clang startled them both, and Hiruma immediately crouched to find the gun again and pointed it at the source of the noise. A tin can was rolling towards them, and Hiruma caught a glimpse of an orange tail disappearing in the dark.

"Just a fucking cat," he said, standing up. He glanced at the gun in his hand and wiped away the prints with his shirt before tossing it away. "Come on, let's go get cleaned up."

"…Yeah," Agon mumbled. His eyes were fixed to the tin can still rolling slowly.

Hiruma rubbed his swollen lips gently. Like he'd needed one more bruise. What the fuck had that been about anyway, just because there hadn't been a girl around didn't mean Hiruma was fair game, that wasn't any part of their arrangement. Hiruma stopped his thoughts there and glanced up at Agon once more. Then he walked away, not bothering to say anything more to the other boy. After a second, he heard Agon's footsteps behind him.

They stayed silent the rest of the way back to the hotel.


	5. Interception 1

**Chapter 4.5: Interception**

It's like one of those Chinese kites flying in the wind

And then some kid with a shotgun sends a bullet through it

-The Mountain Goats, Standard Bitter Love Song #1

Hiruma, polishing his guns in his hotel room, wiping away every fingerprint and leaving behind a shine that reflected sharp teeth and pale hair.

Hiruma, arching away from the rough floor beneath them, eyes closed, tongue fighting against Agon's.

Hiruma, rolling balls and balls of bright pink bubblegum and juggling them, dozens at a time, all the while cackling and saying, "I've got someone else for you to beat up."

Agon was starting to have some fucking weird dreams.

For the fifth night in a row, he found himself scowling at his ceiling at 4AM, trying to figure out how to make it all go away.

When he'd first met the blonde, he'd mostly been amused that someone as weak as that would actually try to control him through blackmail. Like he even cared what the cops did. He was good at dodging them, and when that failed, his parents had always bailed him out.

It was probably the free use of weapons in broad daylight that did him in. Or the shameless extortion. Or the way Hiruma used both of them to pick on people even more pathetic than himself. Or maybe just that stupid evil grin, and that cackle, and watching the shiver of fear that ran through people. Yeah, it was probably the last one. Agon liked being powerful and he liked throwing it in other people's faces. It made him laugh to see them cower before someone who had absolutely no effect on him, who couldn't bring him down no matter how hard he tried.

Demanding a girl with each job was just for kicks. He didn't like to admit that showing trash just how weak they were in comparison to a genius was more fun than sex, but sometimes it was true. It was fun enough that he hadn't even slept with the girls Hiruma had found for him after the first two. He could always find girls on his own when he wanted to. He just wanted to make sure that all this wasted time was on his own terms.

Then the dreams had started.

Agon's scowl deepened. Well, no, _technically _the dreams had started after the kiss. But the little thoughts, the weird way that Agon started _noticing _Hiruma, that had started with the jobs. Honestly, at first he had panicked, thinking he was turning into a shitty fag. So he had gone out and stared long and hard at every guy he ran into before dragging each one into an alley and half-killing them to prove to himself he still liked girls. He had thought that was that, until the next time that trash had called him out to bust some stupid club and he'd worn something besides a long-sleeved black shirt and Agon had seen him running down an alleyway, normal calm cracked but still not broken, not even then – why the hell was he thinking about this?

He tore off his covers and pulled on yesterday's clothes. The sun was barely up, but there was no way he was going to just lie in bed and brood like a damn girl. He barely paused before pulling on the black jacket with the patches, the one he'd stolen from the cops, the only one he he'd been wearing for five days. His mom was practically begging him to hand it over so she could wash it. Agon scoffed at the thought. The bloodstains were hardly even noticeable.

The streets were quiet; no one to threaten, no one to fuck. He thought about calling Hiruma, but he hadn't heard from him since that night at the club. Hell if he was going to be the first one to break the silence.

Agon was starting to feel hungry. Sometimes it was easy to go into a shop and smile and get free food, but he wasn't really in the mood. He couldn't think of a girl who would be willing to get up this early to buy him something. That pretty much left actually paying for breakfast, which would be a lot easier if Agon hadn't blown all his cash the past five days trying to forget the feeling of destroying an entire gang with Hiruma's eyes on him.

He kicked over a trashcan in passing. Hiruma was getting under his skin, had been doing so since day one, and he couldn't figure out why.

A different image came into his head, better than calling up the trash like he needed him or something. He would walk into the hotel room, _barge _in, and act like that kiss had never happened, like he'd totally forgotten about it. Hiruma would be expecting him to say something about it, or to at least ask for a job, but he wouldn't. He'd just walk in like he owned the place and sit on the bed and see how the trash reacted. Yeah. See how he liked it when he was caught by surprise, when something happened outside of his plans.

Agon sneered and turned left at the next corner, doubling back to head to Hiruma's hotel.

The receptionist glanced up as he walked by and flinched. Yeah, she better recognize him after all the times he's been by there, supposed friend of the middle school student that even the management bows down to.

The locked door stalled him momentarily, and he remembered that it _was_ still early in the morning. No problem. He beat his fist against it nearly hard enough to splinter the wood, expecting Hiruma to open it with a gun and dressed in pajamas.

Instead, what he got was a door that swung open to reveal Hiruma in his desk chair, dressed and already wheeling back into the room, tapping away at his laptop. He barely spared him a glance as he said, "God, when's the last time you slept, fucking dreads? You look like road kill."

He slammed the door closed with a clenched fist, ignoring the sound of gum snapping that meant Hiruma was peeved. Agon dropped onto the unmade bed and waited for Hiruma to ask why he was there, or what he'd been thinking last time in that alley, or anything.

Instead, Hiruma said, "Do you ever take off those sunglasses anymore?"

Agon felt at the top of his head and was disgruntled to find the sunglasses perched there. He couldn't remember whether he'd put them on this morning or left them on all night. He tugged them out of his hair and hung them on his collar. "It's just easier to have them on me since you always call out of nowhere," he said lamely.

Hiruma made a small grunting noise and continued to type. Agon stood up to try to peer over his shoulder and got kicked in the leg, so he sat back down and looked around the room instead. It was extremely bare; the only furniture not provided by the hotel was a large safe shoved in the corner, from which Agon had seen Hiruma pull various tools and computer parts before. He also knew that there were several briefcases full of cash under the bed and an entire armory in the closet, but on the surface it looked completely ordinary, nondescript in every way. Agon had been surprised the first time he'd seen it. It didn't match Hiruma's flashy way of doing things. Actually, it looked a lot like what Agon would expect a master gambler's room to look like, a thing belonging to someone used to hiding behind a poker face.

Agon could never see Hiruma as just a gambler. Gamblers played it smart, took chances only when the odds were in their favor, and stayed cool. Hiruma faced the world kicking and screaming in every direction until you were so confused that you missed the ace he slipped out of his sleeve.

"Let's get breakfast," Agon said abruptly. The bubble Hiruma was blowing popped, and he looked directly at Agon, arching a brow. Agon almost wanted to take it back – it wasn't like he actually wanted to spend _time _with the trash – but he was Kongo Agon and he didn't take back the things he said. So he just glared at the surprised look on Hiruma's face as it slowly turned into one of mild interest.

"Fine," he answered, closing the laptop. "But we're not ordering room service. I don't like the fucking employees near my stuff."

Agon forcefully ignored any implications that might have about his own presence in the room. Propping himself up on his elbows, he watched Hiruma tuck his computer into his black bag. Some comment about his obsession with the laptop was about to fall out of Agon's mouth, but he held it back when he saw Hiruma pulling on the jacket that matched his. The AK-47 hit his shoulder with a heavy thump in time with the sharp grin that appeared on his face.

"I know just the place to eat," he cackled.

Agon sat up properly and allowed himself a snicker. "Kuku, so long as you pay. The cash from last time wasn't enough. You need to start picking better jobs."

He stood up, ready to lead the way out the door even if he had no idea where they were going. He was stopped by the look Hiruma was giving him. Calculating.

"What?"

"You've already done twelve jobs."

It took five seconds for Agon to remember the original deal, the twelve counts of blackmail Hiruma supposedly had against him. If he didn't need to be here, then what the fuck was he even doing? Not that he had ever shown up because Hiruma had any kind of control over him. Boredom and a refusal to admit that he'd forgotten battled it out against the impulse to cut ties with this crazy shit forever and go back to setting his own rhythm, not waiting for phone calls. The boredom won.

Whatever. Agon had always been shitty at planning ahead of time. Godspeed impulse meant reacting, not predicting or planning. That was Hiruma's job.

"Haaa?" he sneered. "Do I look like I ever cared about you've got written in your notebook?" He moved towards the door again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hiruma shrug, the grin widening. He kicked Agon until they were both standing in the hallway and shut the door.

"Have you got any other plans today?" Hiruma asked in that absent-minded tone that told Agon his mind was already way gone, plotting out the day ahead of them.

"It's Sunday," Agon said. Like hell was he going to commit to anything before he knew what they were doing.

Hiruma chewed his gum thoughtfully. He turned abruptly, like he'd decided something, a cackle that was somehow darker and deeper than normal bubbling out of him.

"Hurry up, fucking dreads," he said as he strolled down the hallway.

"Yeah, yeah, trash," Agon sneered, moving just a step behind him.

He went home that night with a few more stains on his jacket than had been there that morning. The day had been oddly dissatisfying and had left him even more frustrated.

Mostly it bothered him that the beatings he had dished out over the course of the day hadn't been enough to amuse him for more time than it took to drop the trashes to the ground and spit on their bleeding faces.

The rest of it was that nagging thought in the back of his head that kept whispering that Hiruma had been the one to forget about the kiss, didn't even have a noticeable reaction to it. Maybe that was what had given their normal activities a sour taste, the knowledge that things should have been different and weren't. And also the images from his dreams that were stuck hard enough to his consciousness that he couldn't always meet Hiruma's eyes.

Agon noticed the trashcan he'd kicked over that morning, now standing up straight. He kicked it again, this time hard enough to leave a dent. Looked like it was becoming a habit.

If he didn't find something new to do soon, shit was going to fly.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Hiruma Youichi."

Hiruma glanced up to find Kongo Unsui hovering over him. He clearly needed to find a new place to work. The rooftop of Maou middle school was no longer private, what with Kurita sneaking football fliers there every day and now Unsui.

"Your twin isn't here," Hiruma said, hoping that was the reason Unsui had bothered to come talk to him. It wasn't.

"I actually came to speak with you about him," Unsui said, his tone struggling to be both polite and accusing. With a sigh, Hiruma closed the video streaming on his laptop and set the computer aside. Crossing his arms, he glared up at Unsui impatiently.

Unsui hesitated, then crouched down so that his eyes were level with Hiruma's. "Agon came home covered in blood last week. Someone else's blood."

Hiruma stayed silent as Unsui weighed him with his eyes, judging his reaction. It obviously wasn't news to Hiruma. After the ordeal at the club, Agon had split instead of cleaning up at the hotel, so of course his twin had seen him all bloodied.

"I'll be direct. What kind of trouble are you getting Agon into?"

"What a good big brother you are," Hiruma cackled.

"I'm being serious!" Unsui said. "My parents had enough to deal with before, and now who knows what illegal things you're forcing him to do. I asked around Maou and – "

"No one's forcing fucking dreads to do anything," Hiruma interrupted. "My deal with him ended last week."

Although Agon had still been showing up at Hiruma's hotel every day, regular as clockwork.

Unsui's eyebrows drew together, a small shadow of the scowl that normally graced Agon's features. Hiruma fought to keep his mouth from twitching into a smirk. He watched the older Kongo twin search for something to say and debated over whether to give him the time to find his words or to just cut him off.

His patience wore out before Unsui opened his mouth again. Gathering the papers scattered around him, he said, "Question is, what are you going to do about it, fucking twin? If fucking dreads wants to beat people bloody, are you going to try to stop him?" He folded the papers and shoved them into his pocket. He and Unsui both knew that the answer was no.

"…you encourage him," Unsui mumbled as Hiruma stood up. He followed him towards the stairwell. "He's gotten worse since he started hanging out with you."

Hiruma just said, "We don't hang out." Except, this was quickly becoming a lie as he and Agon spent less time looking for fights and more debating which teams had the best balance while Hiruma analyzed their tactics and tried to predict which players from their year would go to each school.

It wasn't as annoying as Hiruma had assumed it would be, having Agon around. They were falling into something of a routine; Agon came and sat on Hiruma's bed while the latter typed, they bickered about football, went to games, and gathered blackmail for Hiruma if they happened to run into a good opportunity. Hiruma didn't wait around for Agon to show up or anything, but he didn't hate his constant presence, either.

"I didn't know Maou had an American football team," Unsui said behind him.

Hiruma snorted and glanced to his right. They had a clear view of the fucking fatty practicing by himself. "We don't."

Unsui followed him downstairs and they parted ways.

Hiruma was bored of school by the age of six. He learned to read, spell, and add at twice the speed of any of his classmates. His teacher didn't know what to do with the black-haired boy who glared sullenly every time he was asked to sit quietly and read.

Most kids would have resorted to whining that school was boring to their parents. Hiruma began to devise ways to steal from the other kids' lunches without being caught. His teacher figured it out after the third incident and his mother had to come in for a talk. Hiruma stopped after that and became an outcast in class, making school even more boring than before.

When he started to lose his baby teeth, the adult ones grew in sharp, like they had been filed. If the other students had avoided him before, they were now positively frightened of the boy with half normal teeth and half fangs. When he was seven, he developed a fascination with guns that couldn't be quelled no matter how many calls home his teacher made.

By the age of nine, Hiruma had more than realized that something in him was naturally intimidating. And since school was still boring and being at home pissed him off, he began to think of ways to use that to his advantage. His father had taught him how to play chess, and Hiruma used the sense of strategy he had developed to manipulate people. He didn't have to actually hurt people; the threat of his appearance and mannerisms was more than enough to get them to do whatever he wanted.

That, too, had just started to become dull on the day that Hiruma crawled through the fence of the American base. His father would find out later, and rage about the choices Hiruma was making with his life, asking him why he didn't look at the situation and analyze how dangerous it could be before acting on a whim. Instead of answering, Hiruma had spent two months gambling every day until he saved up enough money to move out of his parents' home.

In his head, though, he knew. It wasn't that he didn't consider consequences. It was just that, when he was bored, he made stupid decisions.

Hiruma walked slowly down the street, taking his time getting back to Maou. The sun was starting to set; no one would be at school, not even the fucking fatty. Good. He was the last person Hiruma wanted to deal with just then.

After his chat with Unsui, Hiruma had gone to the American base to see if any of the soldiers were up for some poker. Once he'd reached the chain link fence, though, he hadn't really felt in the mood. It was just getting too easy, almost like playing the same game every time. He had wandered back to his hotel room, wondering when Agon would show up, and had found a football outside his door. Fucking, fucking Kurita Ryoukan. It had been a serious mistake to let him see where he lived.

Hiruma's first reaction had been to grab his flamethrower so he could torch what little practice equipment Kurita had. He'd only stopped because he had remembered, once again, the fence, the fucking fatty begging the old man not to repair it. That memory had already stopped him from blackmailing Kurita a dozen times. This time, it meant that he was just going to leave the football on Kurita's sad little practice space. Maybe put a bullet through it. A lineman wouldn't bemoan the loss of a football.

He walked the long way around instead of just hopping the fence. It wasn't like he had anything else to do. Still an entire year left until high school started and he could begin his gambling ring. Scouting games and watching the fucking dreads trash people until then wasn't going to be enough.

As he turned the corner, he replayed an image of Agon throwing some punk through a window. With a single hand, he had grabbed this guy by the face and chucked him off the ground in one smooth motion. It reminded Hiruma of a wildcat swatting a fly out of the air. Effortless. Graceful, but in a beastly way. It was a whole different kind of power trip, watching Agon let loose and standing just a foot behind the carnage, knowing he wasn't in any danger. It made his grins all the more devilish.

At least that was still a little interesting. Especially when Hiruma factored in how much time they were spending together – more time than anyone else for a long while – and the looks Agon kept shooting him ever since that night in the alley. He had finally admitted to himself that he had seen lust in those glances. For what, Hiruma didn't understand. Agon had made it clear that he liked girls. And…

Hiruma glared at the sidewalk, irritated at his hesitation, even if it was only mentally. Not admitting things to himself only created opportunities for others to catch him by surprise. He was okay with lying to others, but he had set a rule early on that lying to himself was just stupid and would only cause him trouble. Which didn't mean that it was any easier to avoid. But in all bare honesty, he couldn't understand why Agon would look at him like that. He was used to uncomfortable, nervous, or downright scared looks from people. The admiration that Kurita threw at him was odd enough. Hiruma didn't know what to do with Agon.

Except, of course, give him exactly what he wanted. Hiruma's glare involuntarily changed to a smirk. The most interesting thing about fucking dreads is that Hiruma so often didn't know what to do with him. For all that Hiruma knew how to handle Agon, he never fooled himself into thinking that he actually controlled him. He tossed the football lightly in the air. Yeah, if things kept on like this, fucking dreads was almost enough to keep him entertained for the next year. Almost.

His cell went off, the shrill tone echoing against the dark classrooms. "Like clockwork," Hiruma muttered with a smirk. He flipped it open with his free hand and held it loosely against his ear. "Fucking dreads."

"What the hell are you doing here, trash?"

Hiruma frowned and searched the shadows again. "What, you trying to stalk me at Maou, too?"

"Why are you here in the first place? It's not exactly school hours."

This time he heard the growling voice from his left, not through the phone. He finally spotted the dreads lurking behind a bush several yards away, back turned as he tried to stay hidden. Three rubber bullets nailed him in the shoulder with consecutive thuds as sudden shouted curses rang out in the dark. Hiruma cackled.

Tucking the shotgun away, Hiruma just laughed louder as Agon emerged, his glare burning in the dim light, sunglasses shoved up into his dreadlocks.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?" Hiruma asked again. Agon shrugged.

"You weren't at the hotel. And Unsui said that he talked to you here earlier."

"Kekeke, sure, we talked. You've got a protective older brother, fucking dreads. He told me I was a bad influence." He rolled the ball between his hands, trying to read Agon's body language in the dark. His voice had sounded oddly tense, defensive, even, but Hiruma couldn't tell why.

Agon snorted. "Like anyone could ever influence me." He stepped a little closer, although he was still a good ten feet away. There was a low bush between them that lined the space beside the school building. Hiruma started to walk forward again, heading towards the practice field. Agon followed along.

"So you're, what, brooding because my brother said we can't hang out?"

It was Hiruma's turn to scoff. "God no. You think I take orders from your fucking twin?"

He saw Agon shrug out of the corner of his eye. "Then what are you doing here?"

Hiruma squeezed the football one last time and lazily chucked it at Agon's head. It wobbled through the air before landing firmly in Agon's hand.

"The hell was that weak-ass throw?"

"Do I look like a football player, fucking dreads?"

"What's with the ball, then?"

"Eh," he said, shrugging and blowing a bubble. "Just picked it up here earlier and thought I'd return it."

"You? Return something?" Agon said incredulously. Hiruma just shrugged again. He couldn't quite summon the energy to cackle.

He suddenly found the football an inch from his nose and Agon shoving it closer. He had stepped forward with the movement and was standing closer to Hiruma than he had since the alley, one foot in the bushes.

"What's your problem?" Hiruma said, leaning backwards. Agon clambered the rest of the way over to Hiruma's side of the plants.

"Bet you I can throw this twice as steady as you can, and catch it myself, too." Agon's face was finally more than shadows from this distance. His normal scowl was replaced by a playful smirk.

Hiruma rolled his eyes. "Doesn't take a genius to guess that much. I might as well challenge you to a game of chess."

He shoved past him and kept walking, never mind that Agon still had the football. Hiruma knew he'd start following in a minute. They were close to the fatty's practice space, but asking for the ball back would almost guarantee that Agon wouldn't just hand it over. He was definitely in an obstinate mood tonight. He wanted something.

He had rounded the corner of the building before the other boy caught up with him. "Bet you I can catch any pass you throw, no matter how terrible," he tried again.

"Stop looking for an excuse to show off," Hiruma said. He winced at how tired his voice sounded.

Agon tossed the ball back and forth between his hands. "I found out my brother is trying to go to Shinryuuji. So add that to your gambling charts or whatever." He waited for Hiruma to answer. When he met with only silence, he kept blabbering on. "You're welcome for the tip, trash. I know that's something you hadn't figured out yet. Are you sure you're not moping about something, 'cause you fucking seem like – "

"It doesn't matter," Hiruma cut him off. "Your brother doesn't tip the scales. My guess is that, our freshman year, Oujou will take the Christmas Bowl when Shin joins the team, unless Shinryuuji gains a significant advantage with a freshman player of its own. That's a role your brother isn't ever going to fill."

"What about this year?"

Hiruma shook his head. "Nah, the Golden Generation still isn't enough. Oujou needs Shin. Seibu had a chance to beat Shinryuuji, but their strategy is immature. They revealed all their cards way too early in the tournament."

Agon was still tossing the ball around, his eyes staring out over the practice field in front of them. His arm came up and released the ball into a smooth arc that sailed out into the empty space. It wasn't a perfect throw by any means, but it was pretty fucking amazing for a guy who didn't play.

Hiruma was wondering if leaving the ball there counted as returning it when Agon said, "So why even watch the Christmas Bowl or do your bets next year, if Shinryuuji will just win again?"

He opened his mouth to say something about establishing a name and making money on the early games, but the words sounded dull even to him. So he just shrugged and said, "You tell me, fucking dreads."

Ignoring the quick look Agon threw him, Hiruma stepped away from the school building at his back and went to retrieve the ball. The practice space was right there; he might as well just –

Agon's hand snatched the ball away just as Hiruma was bending down to get it. Hiruma just stood back and eyed him warily, wondering what Agon was going to do now. From the way fucking dreads was crowding his space again, he half-expected another sudden kiss to happen.

The smirk reappeared on Agon's face as he met Hiruma's eyes. "I'll bet you that – "

"Give it up," Hiruma interrupted. "What the fuck's with you? Don't tell me you're turning into your twin after all, desperate to play football all of a sudden."

"Who's desperate?" Agon snarled. "I'm just bored. You like to gamble or whatever, right? And I thought playing football would at least be more interesting than just standing here with you."

"If you're bored, then go find a chick to bang."

The other boy stiffened. "Maybe I will," he muttered. His hands twirled the football effortlessly as his eyes slipped away from Hiruma's. "I could do that easily," he added.

Two key words stood out in Hiruma's mind, _bored _and _easily. _They echoed thoughts he'd been having all week. Which didn't mean anything, didn't mean that he was anything like Kongo Agon or that they had similar mindsets, but…

The words popped out before Hiruma had finished analyzing the consequences. "And you think that you can't throw a football easily?"

Dark eyes snapped back up to his own. "Just watch me," he said, and threw the ball with a solid stance that was a fair copy of the better high school players. The ball had barely begun its flight before Agon began to run, turning at exactly the right time to let the ball glide effortlessly into his hands. His heels dug into the grass as he pushed off and began sprinting back towards Hiruma, like he was going to run straight through him. Hiruma didn't move an inch as he came closer.

Agon stopped abruptly in front of him, and Hiruma wondered if he'd chickened out of tackling him. It was never a smart idea to knock someone armed with several grenades and a gun to the ground. Agon stood there like he was waiting for praise, or maybe another comment about what a waste of talent he was.

Instead, Hiruma blew a bubble in his face until it popped. "So? Are you a quarterback, a receiver, or a runningback?"

"All three, of course." The smirk was back on Agon's face. "Whichever position I feel like playing."

Cackling, Hiruma said, "You are aware that football is a team sport, right?" Before the other boy could answer, he snatched the ball and brushed past him, aiming for the fatty's practice space.

He should have expected the tackle that Agon threw at him. As it was, he barely had time to twist so that he didn't break his nose against the dirt. He absorbed most of the fall on his left shoulder before Agon's weight hit his chest and knocked the air out of him.

"Bastard," he grunted, shoving at Agon's shoulder. He had lost his grip on the football and Agon now brandished it in front of his face once again.

"Bet you that I could be that key freshman that turns things around for Shinryuuji."

Hiruma pushed his shoulder again, but with less force. As Agon shifted enough to give Hiruma the room to wriggle away, his mind began calculating. Sure, Agon would be enough to tip Shinryuuji. But what did Hiruma gain from that? Just a continuation of the Shinryuuji legacy. He'd actually been looking forward to watching Ojou play the next two years, to see if they really could beat the Nagas. Upsets in standings always interested him.

"Sure, just join the team that's already the best. Don't even try to find something challenging, you lazy ass," Hiruma baited.

Agon was still lying on his side, propped up on his right arm. His eyebrows furrowed. "Any team I join will make it to the Christmas Bowl, no problem. Everyone's trash compared to me anyway, even the Shinryuuji starters."

Rearranging himself so that he was sitting cross-legged, Hiruma considered that option. Agon couldn't join Ojou, but if he joined a third team – maybe Seibu – then there would be three teams in the running for the Christmas Bowl in two years. Seibu was on their way there anyway, so Agon could probably join a fourth team and make it into a contender. That would make three teams with the potential to upset Shinryuuji and challenge Teikoku.

"Even an unknown team? Or a weak-ass one like the Yuuhi Guts?" Hiruma said, one eyebrow arched.

Agon sat up and jabbed his finger into Hiruma's chest. "I could even teach a trash like you to be halfway decent at football. Any team, three years _guaranteed_ at the Christmas Bowl if I join."

That was exactly what Hiruma had been waiting to hear. He felt his grin widen. "Let me choose the team and you might have yourself a bet."

"Might?"

"You still haven't told me what you want if you win."

Agon drew back a bit, like he'd forgotten about that part. He clearly hadn't thought his idea through at all.

"Come on," Hiruma scoffed. He reached forward and scooted the ball closer to him. "What did you want when you made that first bet earlier?"

He watched Agon struggle to come up with something, his expression growing harder to read as the sky darkened. Hiruma doubted that he could come up with anything really harmful; he'd probably ask for money, and Hiruma would have four years to raise whatever amount he wanted. While he waited, he tried to think of something that he might want, should he happen to win. The odds weren't awful if he put Agon on a low-ranked team, but that wasn't nearly as interesting. He would only seriously consider sending Agon to either Seibu or Ojou, and that almost guaranteed that his team really would make it to the Christmas Bowl.

"Hurry up, fucking dreads, I'm getting –"

"When I win, I get to read your notebook."

Without missing a beat, Hiruma whipped out the black notebook and said, "You mean my extortion booklet? Why, you want to read about how you tried to buy gay porn last week and got kicked out of the store?"

Inside, his mind was racing. Why the fuck did Agon want to read the notebook? There wasn't really anything about him written in there, and Hiruma had already cleared him on all counts. The notebook was his business. Always within reach, where he could be sure no one had touched it.

Agon had brushed off Hiruma's taunt without batting an eye. "Three years of Christmas Bowl, and I get to read the notebook."

Hiruma hesitated, which was a bigger mistake than he usually made. He had plenty of time to forge a different notebook. It wasn't worth letting Agon see how off-balance the demand had made him. "And I get to choose the team?"

"Yeah. You choose the team."

"And if I win…"

Agon cut him off by holding out his hand to shake. "You're not going to," he said, arrogance riding on the words.

"Then if I do win," Hiruma said, holding up his hand to keep Agon from interrupting again, "I'll tell you what I want in four years."

Agon smirked and grabbed his hand, forcing it into a handshake. "Deal."

"Deal," Hiruma echoed. Agon's grip nearly crushed his slender fingers, but he didn't let the pain show on his face. "Now fucking let me return this football without tackling me, fucking dreads."

"Why are you returning that thing again?" Agon grumbled, stretching his arms over his head. "Why not just dump it here?"

For no reason that Hiruma could logically explain, he chose to answer almost honestly. "I owe the guy who gave it to me, so I decided to be nice and bring it back to him." He picked up the ball and stood. After half a second, Agon stood as well.

"Want to watch Stanford's game after this?" Hiruma asked as he walked towards the fatty's practice space.

"Stanford?"

"An American college team. They play with so much swagger that they make you look like a little girl with an inferiority complex."

Agon snorted, but just watched as Hiruma dropped the ball on the little square of grass that stored Kurita's makeshift practice equipment.

"So does that mean you're coming?" Hiruma asked, turning away towards the school exit.

"Sure," Agon muttered, his voice already at Hiruma's ear. He was only a step behind the blonde, broad shoulder bumping against Hiruma's thin t-shirt. "But first one thing."

Hiruma felt a bruising grip lock around his waist and spin him around. His hand was only halfway to his gun before Agon had caught both of his wrists in his free hand. Hiruma barely had time to blink before Agon's lips were against his once again. His body stayed frozen while his mind ran through possible ways to escape. This was different than the first time in the alley, when Hiruma could chalk up Agon's actions to adrenaline rush, lust, and possibly some alcohol. No, this felt planned.

Agon leaned back once he noticed Hiruma's lack of a reaction, but he still kept his grip. Brown eyes met blue with a sharp challenge that promised to break both his hands if he laughed. Hiruma tensed before relaxing his muscles as much as his awkward position would allow. A slash of a smile broke out across his face. Yes, he was just bored enough to make that decision.

"To my place it is, then."

Agon gave him one more measuring look before stepping back. "So what the fuck are you waiting for, trash?"

Hiruma was just starting to doze when he heard the door to his hotel room slam closed. He sat up on his bed, sheets twisted around him, and winced. He was more sore than he had expected. Most of his clothes were scattered across the floor, but Agon's had disappeared. It bothered Hiruma that he hadn't heard him get off the bed or dress.

He scooted closer to the foot of his mattress and reached for the TV remote on the floor. The flat screen flicked on to show the beginning shots of the Stanford game he had recorded. Hiruma really had just intended to watch some football with Agon.

But that was just what Hiruma liked. Running just a little too fast towards something unknown, making jumps based on instinct rather than calculation. Like when a runningback gambled everything to dive over a heavy wall of linemen, betting only on physical ability and chance. It wasn't any kind of sensible, but it was thrilling.

Hiruma idly massaged a bruise on his bare shoulder. After the deal they had made earlier that night, he didn't expect this to be the last he saw of fucking dreads. He wasn't sure how to measure whether that was a good thing or bad. Slowly running over the details of their bet in his mind, he tried again to determine what Agon's goal was in getting to read –

"Shit," he hissed, darting out of bed to grab his pants, thrown idly across the room. He searched the pockets and breathed a sigh of relief when he found his notebook still there, untouched. So Agon was at least going to honor his word on that point.

He realized that Stanford had scored their first touchdown and he hadn't been paying any attention. Cursing again, he hit rewind and pulled the blankets closer as he watched the players move backwards in double time.

It was official. American football and Kongo Agon were taking over Hiruma's life, and not necessarily in that order. Hiruma didn't even try to control the wicked grin that spread across his face.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

And if wanting ever taught you anything, it's wanting more

(and more and more and more...)

-What to Do, OK Go

Hiruma collapsed hard onto his back, gasping for air. He closed his eyes against the blinding blue sky above him and tried to ignore the throbbing in the back of his head. The wind raised goose bumps against his bare arms as trickles of sweat began to cool.

He began to laugh, honestly laugh like a normal person.

"H-Hiruma?" Kurita stuttered from where he was sitting in the grass, two feet away.

Dragging himself up, Hiruma glanced at fucking fatty's face and laughed harder at his worried expression.

"Fucking fatty, do you realize that I lost my bet because of you?"

"B-b-but…"

Kurita rambled on and Hiruma only half-paid attention as he made his decision. Their football team would be the best. If Kurita didn't give up on the team, then Hiruma would find a way to make it to the Christmas Bowl. No excuses, no "I tried my best" shit, no pride keeping them from doing whatever it took to win.

As Kurita began to cry, Hiruma's grin widened. Lists of calculations ran through his head as he immediately began planning the kind of team they needed, the most effective ways to practice… and he remembered, with a mix of relief and excitement, the bet he had made with Agon. He still hadn't chosen the team he wanted him to play on.

"Fucking piece of cake," Hiruma said with a cackle.

"Okay," Kurita sniffled. "But how – "

"Don't worry about details," Hiruma interrupted, sending another spray of bullets his way. "And stop fucking crying! We're going to the Christmas Bowl!"

Kurita rubbed the snot off his face and bellowed, "We're going to the Christmas Bowl!"

"Step one," Hiruma said, standing. "Recruiting. We'll need five thousand posters and a shitload of black paint."

"What?"

Hiruma shoved Agon's arm off his chest and sat up, still flushed and breathing hard. "Time to go," he said, sliding off his bed and reaching for his jeans.

"Damn, what's the rush?"Agon said, rolling over lazily. He watched Hiruma get dressed, his features relaxed into a rare, sleepy expression.

"What, did I tire you out, fucking dreads?" Hiruma cackled as he pulled on a dark t-shirt.

"Hell no!" Agon snapped, his scowl reappearing. He grabbed his sunglasses from where they had fallen on the floor and jammed them on. "I just don't know why I have to run out the door just so you can do whatever stupid thing you have planned out today."

"Following the vice principal of my school," Hiruma said absently. "I need some blackmail material on him, which I told you when you barged in and crawled into my bed. You don't have to come, but you're sure as hell not staying in my room without me here."

Agon finally stood up and started to dress. "I'll bet you were going to come get me, anyway. You always take me along for your jobs. Do you want me to beat him up or what?"

"I said blackmail, not intimidation. I just need a photo."

Agon shot him a skeptical look as he buttoned his jeans. Then his eyes narrowed as he watched Hiruma tuck his notebook into his back pocket. Before the blonde could blink, Agon had seized his wrist with one hand and wrenched the notebook out with the other.

Before Hiruma could come up with an insult to snap at him, Agon said, "Where's your real notebook?"

"What the fuck are you – "

"Don't even try to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. This is a new notebook."

"Of course it is," Hiruma said, wrenching his hand free. "This is actually an extortion booklet. I needed to start a new one for a project I'm working on." Namely, starting a team for Kurita, but Hiruma didn't want to go into details. Unfortunately, Agon wasn't one to let something like that go.

"What do you mean, _actually_? What was the other one? You always read your threats from there." He was standing directly in front of Hiruma, ready to block him in case he tried to leave.

Like Hiruma would ever retreat from his huffing and puffing. "I made up those threats on the spot." Or recited them from memory when he actually had proof, but that was a minor detail. "What's your obsession with my notebook, anyway? If you think it's some kind of fucking diary – "

"I just want to make sure that you're not trying to squirm out of your end of the deal when I win this bet," Agon said, talking over whatever else Hiruma was going to say.

"_If _you win, I've still got the notebook, hidden," Hiruma snorted. He snatched back the booklet and returned it to his pocket. "I'm leaving now. You've got five seconds to get your shirt on before I throw you out into the hallway."

Agon finished with two seconds to spare and was standing right at Hiruma's heels as he made sure his door was locked. The blonde led the way to the bus stop two blocks away from his hotel. This would likely be a boring afternoon; Maou's vice principal didn't seem like the type to have any shocking secrets, but Hiruma needed _something _against him to reinstate the club. Otherwise he'd have to find something on one of the school board members and then pressure him to pressure the principal to allow them to have the club, which would just be more work.

It was much more entertaining to think about his team. Maou was such a shitty school that it didn't even have an official mascot. Hiruma had already decided on the Devil Bats. It seemed appropriately threatening and sounded good. It didn't matter all that much, anyway, since they'd be moving on to high school in a year.

"Hey trash, what kind of shit are you thinking about now?" Agon asked. Hiruma blinked, surprised enough to be startled out of his thoughts. Normally when Agon opened his mouth, it was only to refocus any and all attention on himself, not to ask what others were thinking about.

He thought about simply shutting Agon up with a snappy rejoinder, but decided that actually talking to him wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"I'm deciding what team I want you on in high school," he said. Not entirely truthful, but close enough. "There a few new players to take into consideration." He stopped himself short. Something made him hesitant about telling Agon that he was also planning on playing football, that he had already begun to train for it. If he wanted to be on the same team, then eventually he would need to tell him anyway, but…

"So you were thinking about me," Agon said smugly. Hiruma rolled his eyes. That's more like it, he thought, just redirect all conversation to yourself.

"You're hearing what you want to hear, fucking dreads."

Agon scowled and looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. Hiruma raised his eyebrows a little. The response seemed unlike Agon, but Hiruma had trouble explaining exactly what was different. He would have expected a snarling comeback or at least a huffy denial, something more in line with their constant bickering. Instead, Agon had been drawing back in moments like these, less willing to engage with Hiruma's casual taunts.

Hiruma followed Agon's gaze across the street, where a girl had just broken the heel of her shoe and was now cursing at it while her boyfriend hovered anxiously beside her. After talking for a few minutes, the guy picked her up and carried her into a nearby store.

Hiruma noticed Agon's fixed expression and frowned. God, this fucking idiot. He forced himself not to roll his eyes and arranged his face into a leer. "Kekeke, do you want me to carry you like that, fucking dreads?" he said as he leaned closer to him.

"Shut the fuck up!" Agon snarled, spinning to face Hiruma. He grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him forward, which just made the blonde cackle more. "We are not a couple," he growled. Hiruma returned his angry glare with a smirk.

"Like anyone would ever want to be with you," Hiruma said, batting his arm away casually. He felt Agon's fist clench slightly before releasing him. He stepped back and crossed his arms, but didn't leave, which Hiruma took as a fairly good sign. Way to state the obvious, fucking dreads. Hiruma didn't care what the hell their relationship was called. The sooner fucking dreads stopped thinking about it, the better.

The bus finally came around the corner and Hiruma led the way to two open seats in the back. He took the window seat, his mind already drifting back to his plans for the team. He and Kurita had started practicing with the guys at the American base, learning some of the basics from them when they had spare time. They were currently in the process of recruiting more members. He had a feeling that Musashi was going to crack soon – otherwise he would have seriously asked them to stop with the fliers by now. Other than that, Maou didn't offer any prospective players. No matter; the goal was to get enough experience to play on a decent high school team.

He blew a large bubble with his gum and watched as it deflated slowly, sticking a bit to his lips. Which school – that was the tricky part. He knew that Kurita dreamed of playing on Shinryuuji, and if their goal was the Christmas Bowl, the Nagas were almost guaranteed to get them there. Still, Hiruma felt drawn to the idea of starting his own team from scratch. It would be harder, but the challenge was half the fun. He'd get to call the shots, and they wouldn't just be riding on years of tradition to the Christmas Bowl. It would be their own skill that got them there, him, Kurita, Agon, and probably Musashi, along with whoever else they got to play with them.

But Kurita was set on Shinryuuji and it would take a lot of convincing to get him to consider another school. Maybe that was just a different kind of challenge, trying to make his mark on an already established team, proving that he had a place among the best even with less experience.

He glanced at Agon, wondering how he would take it when he heard that Hiruma wanted him on Shinryuuji after all.

"What?" Agon said defensively, and Hiruma stiffened as he realized he'd been staring.

"Nothing," he muttered. He slouched down in his seat and pulled out his phone, jabbing at the keys.

"For a skinny twig, you're heavy as shit," Agon grunted.

"For a once-in-a-century genius, you tire out pretty quick," Hiruma countered. "Suck it up, it'll only be a few more minutes."

They were standing in yet another alley, Hiruma balanced on Agon's thick shoulders so that he could peer through the window of what looked like a brothel. They had followed Maou's vice principal into the red light district, much to Hiruma's surprise. After creeping through streets lined with small-time gangsters and dimly-lit businesses – an environment the two students fit into a little too easily – the vice principal had slipped into a building with stained walls. Judging by the satisfied men who walked out the door with their heads down and the general anonymity of the building, Hiruma was certain that he had his blackmail material. He confirmed it after climbing onto Agon's shoulders and watching the man begin an elaborate S&M ritual with a prostitute.

"You better not just be enjoying the show," Agon huffed, shifting his grip on Hiruma's shoes.

"Fuck no," Hiruma scoffed. "I'm just waiting for the most incriminating photo possible. I'm not a sex-crazed bastard like you."

"…and yet you have sex at least as often as I do." Hiruma just barely heard Agon mumble this, and he smirked. Yeah, fucking dreads would know that for a fact, although it was news to Hiruma that Agon wasn't sleeping with random girls any chance he got. Unless Agon was assuming that Hiruma was also sleeping with other guys on the side. He wasn't, of course. Who had the time?

The prostitute finally finished tying up the vice principal and Hiruma snapped a few shots before motioning to Agon to let him down. He balanced himself against the wall as Agon knelt and then gently hopped off. It wouldn't do to injure the shoulder of his potential ace.

As Hiruma straightened, Agon spun him around so his back was against the wall, pressing his hand into the crotch of Hiruma's jeans. He raised his eyebrows.

"Damn, you really aren't hard," he said.

Hiruma shoved him away. "No shit. Didn't you see the guy we were following? Nothing good out of watching him get tied up."

"Yeah, and I guess since you're such a faggot, seeing the woman wouldn't matter to you either."

Frowning, Hiruma tucked his phone into his bag. "You say that like you're not sleeping with me." He brushed past him, but Agon grabbed his wrist to stop him. Hiruma looked at him over his shoulder.

"I am _not _gay," Agon said, his voice low and serious. His face was turned away, expression obscured by the angle.

"Whatever," Hiruma said, and this time he did roll his eyes. Typical, for the fucking dreads to deny something like that. It amused him more than anything, and he wasn't willing to expend the energy it would require to really question him. Agon could keep whatever images of himself that he wanted, so long as he stayed cooperative.

"Coming, fucking dreads?" he said, already ten feet away, knowing full well that Agon was beyond the point where he would storm off at the slightest provocation. After a moment, he heard the familiar footsteps jogging to catch up with him.

They walked in silence for a while, glaring at anyone who gave them strange looks. Hiruma was well into planning the workout routine he would go through that night when he noticed that Agon wasn't next to him anymore. He turned to look for him, one eyebrow quirked.

He spotted him halfway down the street, striding towards a large group of high school students that seemed to be cornering someone outside a shop. Hiruma frowned and slipped his hand into his bag, resting his palm comfortably against the Glock hidden inside before following Agon.

He had just caught up when Agon grabbed the shoulder of one of the guys and yanked him out of the way to reveal Unsui in the center of the group. He was clutching his wallet in his hands protectively.

"Leave the little shit alone," Agon growled, pulling his brother forward and out of the circle. One of the older boys shoved him from behind.

"Twin brother come to the rescue?" he laughed, shoving him again. Agon's fists tightened, and Hiruma wrapped his fingers around the gun's grip, readying himself to break up the fight if needed. If he could stop Agon before the students were beaten unconscious, he could turn them into slaves. They were exactly the kind of people he liked having under him; pathetic, wannabe gangsters with nothing better to do than pick on middle schoolers.

Hiruma met Agon's eyes, ready to convey that he'd give him just a few minutes before breaking it up, but before he had a chance he saw Agon's eyes widen behind his sunglasses. Hiruma felt a blow to the back of his head less than a second later and he stumbled forward, blinking the stars out of his eyes.

He heard Agon yell something and then the boys around them laughed. "Fuck," he muttered. He managed to stay standing, but his head was throbbing like hell and there was a roaring in his ears. He blinked again, trying to get the shapes around him to focus.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiruma saw a wave of dreads lunge away and immediately felt another blow to his back that knocked the air completely out of him, sending him to his hands and knees this time. He groped for his gun and realized dimly that his bag had been knocked to the ground. Damn, what the fuck was taking Agon so long to finish these guys? And where was that useless Unsui?

As if in response, Hiruma felt an arm around his shoulder slowly pull him into a sitting position. He was able to focus his eyes enough to see Unsui giving him a worried look. Hiruma scowled and glanced back over his shoulder, looking for Agon. He had a vague intention of telling Agon not to worry about getting slaves and just beating these guys into the ground, but when his eyes found the fucking dreads, he realized he didn't have to.

Half were already groaning on the cement and the rest were running for their lives, save one last student who had the misfortune of having Agon's fist twisted around his collar. As Hiruma watched, Agon swung the boy around and smashed his head into the brick wall behind them. A metal pipe fell from his hands.

That must be what hit me, Hiruma thought. It pissed him off, knowing that he'd been taken down in such a stupid way, and part of him was deeply satisfied to see the offender bleeding into the brick. He blinked again and noted that his vision was clearing. It probably wasn't a concussion, then. Lucky. He still needed to practice passing tonight.

He watched Agon release his grip on the student, leaving him to slump against the wall. Moving too fast for Hiruma to follow, he crouched down at the blonde's side and threw an arm around his waist, jerking him away from Unsui.

"What the fuck are you even doing out here, little shit?" Agon barked at his brother as he lifted Hiruma into a standing position. Hiruma tried to pull away – he was fairly certain that he could stand on his own – but Agon just tightened his grip.

Unsui hesitated, shooting Hiruma a guilty glance, before saying, "I was looking for you, Agon. You didn't come home after school and Mom was worried."

Agon scoffed. "I hardly ever come home after school. Tell her to piss off next time. And if you're going to come into this area again, at least try not to look like such a target."

He walked away before his brother could answer, dragging Hiruma along with him.

"Wait, my bag," Hiruma grunted, but before he finished, Agon was already swinging it over his own shoulder. They stayed like that, Agon practically carrying Hiruma as they walked, until they reached the train, where they could finally sit down.

Hiruma leaned back in the seat, wincing slightly at the bruise that had already formed along his spine. It wasn't too bad, not like his ribs were bruised or anything. He wrote off his utter uselessness in that fight to the shock he had experienced from that first blow to the head. He ran his fingers along the back of his head and found a goose egg. Well, that was annoying.

"You better not have a concussion," Agon said. "I'm not taking you to the hospital if you do."

"I think I'm fine," Hiruma said. He dug for his phone in his bag and checked the time. 8PM. If he headed straight to the field and bought a football at the shop nearby, he could still get in a few hours of practice. It wouldn't be too difficult to break into the shed and turn on the stadium lights.

"Hey," Agon snapped, leaning towards Hiruma. "Aren't you going to say thank you? I just saved your ass from being completely beaten by a bunch of punks."

Hiruma opened his mouth to retort, but he knew that it was true. He had been taken off guard, and if Agon hadn't been there he'd probably be in worse condition.

He hesitated for a second before shooting Agon a grin. "I have a better idea."

"What the fuck are we doing back out here?" Agon asked impatiently. They were standing in the middle of Maou's sport field. Hiruma was clutching a brand new football in one hand.

"I finally decided which team you're going to join in high school," Hiruma said. His grin had barely left his face since the train, and he watched Agon's face closely, anticipating his reaction.

"Well, what team then?" Agon asked. It was obvious that he hated being in a position of not knowing, hated the mischievous gleam in Hiruma's eye that told him he'd be surprised by what the blonde said next.

"Mine," Hiruma said.

Agon raised his eyebrows. "Hah? Since when do you play football?"

For an answer, Hiruma tossed the ball as far as he could, which was only about twenty yards, and watched it arc in a wobbly line. Agon was already waiting for it, hands held out in a perfect catching position. His form was better than the first time Hiruma had seen him play. He'd probably been practicing on his own. He enclosed the ball in a tight grip and darted back to Hiruma's side.

Hiruma waited for the scoffing remark, the insult about his ability, but it didn't come. Instead, Agon just relinquished the ball and asked, "So, which team is that?"

"Shinryuuji, of course. If we're going to the Christmas Bowl, we'll need the best players on our side."

"Tch," Agon said. "You expect to play for Shinryuuji with that kind of pass?"

There it is, Hiruma thought, but the insult only made his grin widen. He shoved the ball back into Agon's arms. "Throw it for me, let me watch your form," he said, and Agon complied.

They spent several hours like that, Hiruma trying to copy Agon's movements and Agon coaching him in a clumsy, condescending way, until finally Hiruma tossed the ball to Agon and said that he'd had enough.

"Already?" Agon asked. He wasn't even breathing hard.

"Not everyone can be a stamina freak like you," Hiruma gasped. "Plus, I had a run-in with an iron pipe today, thanks to someone."

"Like shit was that my fault," Agon said, throwing him the ball. "Maybe if someone wasn't such weak trash, it wouldn't have happened in the first place."

Hiruma caught the ball in sweaty hands and laughed airily before tossing it back. He felt like maybe his pride should be offended after a day like this, after being beaten up in front of Agon and then shown up in something as simple as passing, but he couldn't bring himself to care. What seemed to matter more was the feel of the ball as it left his fingertips, the way his passes were growing slowly more accurate, and the beginnings of a solid partnership as they grew familiar with each other's movements.

Agon caught the ball and held it for a minute, running his fingers along the laces. "In a real game, guys would be hitting you twice as hard as any old pipe," he said.

"I'd also be wearing protective gear," Hiruma countered, but he could already see where this was going.

"You'll still need to get better at taking a fall, trash," Agon said. He dropped the ball to the side and threw himself at Hiruma in one motion, sending them crashing to the ground.

It was a sorry excuse to get Hiruma under him and they both knew it, but at that point it didn't matter. Hiruma was too tired to resist even if he wanted to, which he wasn't sure he did, despite them being at school and still within the bright circles cast by the stadium lights. Hiruma raised his head to kiss Agon, something he didn't usually waste time on, and felt the other boy return the pressure with little hesitation. They continued to kiss like the clumsy teenagers they were for a few more minutes, before Agon broke away.

Hiruma glanced up at him, questioningly. The other boy's scowl was as firmly in place as ever, his sunglasses long discarded somewhere in the grass.

"We are not a couple," he said, but this time it was a statement rather than a denial. About time.

Hiruma smirked. "And you're not gay, right?"

"Exactly," Agon said, before ducking his head and beginning to pull at Hiruma's shirt.

That was the last thing Hiruma remembered seeing, Agon's head bent over his stomach as his fingers slipped beneath the thin cotton, before the timer on the stadium lights ran out and they switched off, casting the field into darkness.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all

But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall

-Awake My Soul, Mumford and Sons

* * *

"Hiruma, are you going to the finals this Sunday?"

Hiruma glanced up and saw Kurita hovering over him, his face practically shining with anticipation. They were in the boys' locker room at Maou, changing out of their sweaty uniforms.

"…I'm going," Hiruma said. Of course he was going, but if Kurita asked to go together –

"Finals?"

Kurita and Hiruma looked over at Musashi, who had finally caved and was learning to kick faster than Hiruma had dared to hope for.

"Fucking old man, you still aren't following the spring tournament? This Sunday is the final match until fall, Shinryuuji vs. Ojou."

"And it's going to be incredible! You'll come, right, Musashi? You'll come watch with me and Hiruma? We can teach you more of the rules there, and you'll get to see some amazing players, and – "

"I'll come, I'll come," Musashi interrupted, smiling. "Shinryuuji is the team we're aiming for, right? I should at least see them play once before we apply."

Kurita turned his shining face back to Hiruma. "What time should we go? Do you want to meet early and get good seats?! We could go in the morning and watch the sunrise from the bleachers! Can we, Hiruma?"

Kurita had gotten progressively closer as his excitement increased, and Hiruma lifted his shotgun between them to maintain what personal space he had left. "Do what you want, fucking fatty. I'll be there, but I can't sit with you."

"Oh, right!" Kurita said, and he seemed to become even more excited, if that were possible. "You'll be sitting with Agon-kun again, right? When is he going to come practice with us? Maybe we should all sit together so we can finally meet him!"

"No," Hiruma said, a little too sharply. Kurita drew back a little, and Hiruma could see Musashi raising his eyebrows from behind the fatty.

He lowered the gun and shrugged. "That guy isn't one to practice for fun or make friends. Just wait until Shinryuuji, when we're on the same team. Then you guys will have three years to get to know him."

He pulled on his shirt and zipped up his bag while Kurita watched. "But, you're friends with him, right, Hiruma?"

Hiruma shot Kurita a confident grin. "Kekeke, I wouldn't say that. I'm only going to the game with him because we have something to take care of."

"Which is?" Musashi asked.

"Intimidation, of course. Fucking old man, remember this. In American football, you win if you scare the opponent out of their wits. Every middle school student who wants to play in high school will be at this game. It'd be a waste not to use it to rile up some of them." He slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk away. Before he reached the door, though, he remembered.

Turning around, he pointed at Musashi with a serious look and said, "And watch those tapes I gave you. How can you have not watched one of Shinryuuji's games yet?"

"Hiruma…" Kurita said nervously.

"I still have work," Musashi said evenly. "I'll get around to it."

Hiruma scowled, but said nothing. He was glad to have Musashi on the team, but his work schedule was a serious problem. Hiruma and Kurita – even Agon – were able to spend all their time on football, whether it was practicing or watching games or studying techniques. But Musashi had family work and an overdeveloped sense of responsibility to go with it, especially for a middle schooler. It might prove to be problematic.

"You better, fucking old man. We're going to the Christmas Bowl!"

"Yeah!" Kurita shouted, throwing a fist into the air. Hiruma grinned and left.

There was really no need to worry. Hiruma couldn't see how anyone could play this sport for very long and not become addicted.

* * *

As he left Maou, Hiruma wondered if it should bother him more that he'd just lied to his teammates. In a sense, it did bother him to lie to Kurita, but only because he knew that the fatty would make a fuss if he found out and it would be annoying to deal with. Well, whatever. What he'd said had been true enough.

He paused before turning the corner that would take him to his hotel and glanced in the opposite direction. He had been planning on putting this off until Sunday, but Agon would doubtlessly be hanging around. He didn't want the fucking dreads to be there for this conversation.

So he detoured and headed for the middle school that he knew Agon rarely attended, looking for Unsui. He just barely caught him leaving the grounds for the train. He, too, looked like he'd just gotten out of football practice.

"Hiruma," he said, looking both surprised and confused. "What are you doing here?"

The blonde simply stared at Unsui with a blank face. He almost immediately began to show signs of discomfort, looking around for his teammates and rubbing the back of his neck. When Hiruma shifted his bag to make sure that the barrel of his gun was clearly visible, Unsui flinched.

So fucking easy to read. It kind of amazed him that he was Agon's twin brother. For all of his idiocy, Agon at least knew how to keep his thoughts in his head and not on his face when near a potential threat.

"Fucking twin," Hiruma finally said, raising one eyebrow in a disdainful expression. "The other day, you were looking for me, not Agon. Why?"

"How – "

"Doesn't matter," Hiruma said, cackling. "Just tell me so that I don't have to worry about you stalking me again."

Unsui frowned, but didn't deny it. He seemed to mull Hiruma's words over for a minute before standing up straight and looking Hiruma in the eye. Well, that, at least, Hiruma could respect.

"The other day, Agon mentioned that you're both planning on playing for Shinryuuji next year."

Hiruma shrugged, relaxing a little. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this wasn't it. This was at least better than empty warnings about what a bad influence he was.

"So it's true?" Unsui asked.

"Fuck yeah," Hiruma said. "I'm sorry if that means you lose your spot on the team."

"No, you're not," Unsui countered, and Hiruma conceded the point with a grin. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Spit it out, fucking twin."

"There's a technique that I want you to teach Agon."

"…what?"

Unsui glanced down, squeezing the strap of his backpack. "I know I'm not a great player, and I never will be. I thought that, if I chose a sport that Agon didn't care about, then maybe… but now he is interested in it, because of you. So the least you can do is do this one thing for me."

The only reason Hiruma didn't just walk away was because he wanted to know which technique Unsui was talking about. He doubted that it would be one he hadn't heard of yet. But seriously, these fucking Kongo brothers, always wasting his time. Unsui couldn't possibly think that Hiruma really cared about his relationship with his brother.

Unsui met his eyes again, the determination back in his face. "It's called the dragonfly."

Sure enough, Hiruma had heard of it, and studied it, and hoped to one day use it effectively. He doubted, though, whether Agon would be willing to learn something that depended so much on teamwork and coordination. Maybe if he taught it to him sneakily, tapping into the single-mindedness they shared when fighting.

He considered Unsui, still standing in front of him, waiting for his answer. It was obvious that he'd never be a star athlete just from the way he stood. No confidence at all. Waiting to prove himself, instead of acting like he didn't need to prove anything. Those were things that were difficult to learn. It was a shame, really, because with dedication like his, he could still become great.

"I'll do you one better," Hiruma said. "I'll teach him the dragonfly, and when we get to Shinryuuji, we'll make it golden."

"Golden?"

Hiruma nodded at Unsui himself. "Three quarterbacks." Then, without another word, he walked away.

* * *

Sunday came and Hiruma was already sitting in the bleachers by the time Agon showed up. As fucking dreads took the seat next to him, Hiruma caught several familiar faces glancing up at them from around the stands. One was Kurita, of course, who waved frantically when he saw Hiruma look over. The rest were all from their year, potential players that Hiruma had marked down in a mental checklist of who to watch out for.

"Of course everyone starts looking when I show up," Agon said. He leaned back against the bleacher behind them.

Yes, of course, and this is why Hiruma hadn't exactly lied to Musashi and Kurita. Just sitting with Agon, at the top of the bleachers and apart from everyone, as they had been at every major match for the past two months, just that was intimidation enough. Hiruma was building an image, and this was a major part of it, supplemented by only one other thing.

He had long known which players would be aces no matter which team they joined, and he knew enough about football to know that they would set the mood of each match. So he had chosen a few key ones – Akaba Hayato, Shin Seijuuro, a quarterback who called himself Kid, among others – and had found an excuse to run into them with Agon and let it be known that they would be playing for Shinryuuji next year and would blow everyone out of the water.

Obviously, no one had any idea who they were. Neither of them had even started playing until a month ago, and each player took it differently. A few seemed intimidated, some simply regarded them a little warily each time they happened to cross paths at a match, and the rare few (the most interesting) didn't seem to care much at all.

Regardless of the reaction, their names were out there, which was enough. People knew who Hiruma and Agon were when they saw them, and when they heard their names called on the field next year, they would sit up and pay attention.

Hiruma knew that if Kurita or Musashi had it their way, they would have kept their heads down, quietly entered Shinryuuji, and simply looked for a way to prove themselves. Hiruma was sure that if he explained that strategy to Agon, he would act as though Hiruma was suggesting something too disgusting to even contemplate. Hiruma cackled even thinking about it. He understood the sentiment.

"Quit laughing to yourself, trash," Agon growled, which Hiruma knew was his sloppy way of asking to be in on the joke.

"I was thinking about the giant reputation that we're going to have to live up to next year," he said. He caught another student looking at him – Sakuraba Haruto, receiver, average – and grinned sharply, knowing that the points of his teeth would be visible from even twenty feet away. The blonde boy gulped and quickly turned away.

"First of all, it's me with the rep, not you," Agon scoffed. "And second, I'm already better than the way you've been describing me to all that trash."

"Strength and speed don't mean shit if you don't even know any of the rules," Hiruma said. "You're lucky you have me to tell you what to do, fucking dreads."

"Like I listen to you," Agon said. He sulked silently next to Hiruma for a few minutes, which allowed Hiruma to study the game in silence. Shinryuuji was going all-out, as usual, and despite all the hype surrounding Ojou's Golden Generation, Hiruma knew the White Knights would be defeated yet again.

Agon suddenly jammed his elbow into Hiruma's ribs. "Why does that fat idiot keep waving to you?"

Hiruma rolled his eyes without even bothering to glance down at Kurita. "Goes to my school. Ignore him." He felt a slight pang of guilt, not calling the fucking fatty a teammate, at the very least, but it was for the best right now. He didn't even glance over to see whether Musashi was sitting down there, too. It didn't matter.

He tried to return his attention to the game, but Agon jabbed him again. "Are you trying to break my ribs again?" Hiruma snarled, flinching away this time.

Agon shifted closer. "The game's practically over already. Might as well go do passing drills, not that I need the practice. I bet you're still tired from yesterday."

It was true, although Hiruma wasn't about to admit it. He'd ramped up his training schedule over the past month, building up his strength and stamina to his utmost limit. His passes were already improving significantly, and his time for the 40-yard dash was decreasing every week. When he wasn't practicing with fatty and the old man, he was with Agon, teaching him rules and techniques which he never took the time to look up himself.

His bubblegum snapped and he scraped the sticky pink from his lips with his teeth. "Sure. Go wait for me at the gate. I need to check something."

He stood, ignoring the "Haah?!" that fell obnoxiously from Agon's mouth. He pushed his way down to the fucking fatty and saw that Musashi was here after all.

"Did you decide to sit with us?" Kurita said excitedly. He turned in his seat, looking past Hiruma. "Is Agon-kun coming?"

Hiruma didn't answer, just picked the video camera from Kurita's hands. "Here," he said, handing it to Musashi. "Make sure you get a good view of the plays for me to analyze it later. Fucking fatty was so busy waving that the footage is probably all useless."

Kurita protested, but Musashi raised his eyebrows. "You're leaving?" He turned around, just as Kurita had done. Hiruma followed his gaze and scowled when he saw Agon making is way towards them.

"I'll see you at practice tomorrow," he said, without looking back at Musashi. Then he walked up a few stands to meet Agon halfway.

"You coming or what, fucking dreads?" he said. He turned away, not waiting for an answer, though he had a feeling Agon was about to keep on barreling down towards Kurita. He stopped walking and glanced back with a sneer, ignoring the attention he was drawing from all the spectators trying to watch the game. "You too tired from yesterday's drills to go another round?"

That got him. Agon was only a step behind him as Hiruma made his way off the bleachers. All the better; Hiruma couldn't quite keep his brow from furrowing. It didn't sit right, brushing off Kurita and Musashi that way. Still, his gut was screaming that Agon knowing about them would bring the entire plan tumbling down.

Once they got into Shinryuuji, none of it would matter. He repeated this to himself firmly. He had his bet with Agon to keep him playing on the team. He seemed interested enough in Hiruma's notebook to stick to it, at least for now.

"Keep up, fucking dreads," Hiruma said, although Agon was sticking to him as closely as ever. "I've got something new to teach you today."

Agon scoffed. "I'm the one who should be teaching you how to throw a decent pass."

"This is pure technique. It's about time you started memorizing some plays."

"Sounds boring."

"This one will be hard, even for you," Hiruma shot back. He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. "They call it the Dragonfly."


	9. Interception 2

**Chapter 7.5: Interception**

I really fucked it up this time

Didn't I, my dear?

-Little Lion Man, Mumford & Sons

**A/N**: This might be a good place to mention that this fic is going to be long. Really long. Like, way past the end of the series and tracking their relationship into college, long. We're not even close to the end.

* * *

Three months later, he was still playing football. That alone pissed Agon off. He'd never stuck to anything for so long before. Worse, he was still playing football with Hiruma. He'd definitely never hung out with anyone so much, except maybe Unsui, who didn't count.

He kept deciding to ditch Hiruma whenever they had practice scheduled, but at the last minute he would run out the door and all the way to the practice field, slowing down just before he got there so that Hiruma wouldn't see him out of breath.

He was having trouble remembering what he used to do to fill up all the hours before football. He had a feeling Hiruma was working even harder. Agon had found him asleep in his hotel room the last three times he'd invited himself over, still dressed in sweats and a loose shirt, playbooks laying half open around him on the bed. And when they fucked, Agon couldn't help but notice that muscles were starting to develop along the skinny arms and the pale stomach. All of Hiruma's sharp angles were filling out, just a little. Just enough for Agon to feel under his hands whether he had him in bed or down on the field.

But as much time as Agon was spending with the devilish blonde, there were still days when he couldn't find him in the hotel and Hiruma refused to pick up the phone. He never said anything about where he'd been or what he'd been doing.

Agon was mulling it all over in his mind as he walked to Hiruma's hotel. There were only a couple weeks left until the high school entrance exams. Then they'd be in high school together for three years.

He scowled. Surely he'd be bored of all this by then. He gave himself a year of playing, tops, before he quit, notebook be damned. He could always steal it if he really wanted to read it. He'd thought about doing so before, but never went through with it for reasons he didn't feel like examining.

Just as he was turning the last corner to Hiruma's place, he heard a cackle coming towards him. He smirked and got ready to shove him into the wall as he turned the corner, when he picked up two other laughs that he didn't recognize.

Agon had just enough time to dart across the street and duck into a store before Hiruma came into sight. He watched him walk by from the store window and saw that he was with the two Maou students from the Ojou-Shinryuuji game. Hiruma was walking next to the one that looked so much older, while the fat one trailed behind them. The three of them were laughing and Hiruma was lightly tossing a football back and forth between his hands.

What the fuck?

Agon followed them from a distance, waiting to see Hiruma pull out his gun or push them into mugging someone or do any of the insane things that Agon had come to associate with the blonde. Nothing. He walked with the two students all the way to Maou, looking for all the world like just a normal middle school student. It made Agon sick to his stomach.

By the time they reached the practice field, a scowl was etched deep on Agon's features and building into a look of pure fury. He hung back as the three students began to set up on the field and run through training drills, the same ones that Hiruma made Agon run when they practiced together. He found that he couldn't keep from creeping up towards the chainlink fence, trying to hear what they were saying to each other. So far it all sounded like football talk. Agon wasn't sure what he expected. That was all that Hiruma ever said to Agon, too.

Something went _crunch_ in his hand and Agon realized that he had crushed his cellphone. He didn't even remember taking it out of his pocket, but it gave him an idea.

It was a Sunday afternoon, but there were still plenty of other students on campus, meeting up for clubs and study groups. Agon picked one and knocked him out with a punch before plucking his cell from his backpack. He punched in Hiruma's number, trying not to think about when he had bothered to memorize it, and watched the blonde's reaction from behind a tree.

Hiruma pulled out his phone immediately, glanced at the screen, and tossed it away into the grass.

_Crunch. _Second phone today. Agon chucked it over his shoulder and strained to hear what the fatass was saying as he jogged up to Hiruma.

"Who was it? Agon-kun? Is he finally going to come and practice with us today?"

Agon could only see the back of Hiruma's head, but he suspected he was scowling. "Fucking dreads isn't going to practice with us until Shinryuuji. I'm teaching him everything he needs to know, fucking fatty. Just focus on blocking."

"Is he…" The fatass said this quietly. Agon barely caught it, mostly guessed it from the way he had dropped his head and was nervously twiddling his fingers. The other one turned towards them, listening intently, although he'd been ignoring them before.

"Spit it out," Hiruma said, already reaching for the football at his feet.

"Is-he-your-boyfriend?" he said in a rush. Agon barely had time to process the words before the staccato of machine gunfire broke out and the fatass began running for his life.

"We're no fucking couple!" Hiruma shouted. Agon still couldn't see his face, but he sounded almost gleeful as he took off running, scooping up the football as he went.

Some part of Agon's brain registered that his hand hurt. He glanced down and saw that he was gripping the chainlink fence hard enough to cut into his palm. He flinched away and ran in the opposite direction, still not knowing what the fuck was going on but determined to break the face of the first person he saw.

It happened to be a well-dressed businessman with a fat wad of bills in his pocket. Agon dragged him into an alley and hit him until he passed out. It didn't help. The thoughts wouldn't stop cycling through his head. They knew about him, he didn't know about them, they weren't a couple, though he knew this, had said it himself, Hiruma had plans he didn't know about, Hiruma played football with someone other than him, Hiruma _talked _to someone other than him, and in a completely different way, and Agon didn't want to think about any of it.

So he took the money and found a liquor store that didn't card him. After shotgunning an entire six-pack, he began to stumble home, wondering why he still wasn't feeling any better. He collapsed on the floor of his bedroom and did his best to drill holes in the ceiling just by glaring at it. He still desperately wanted to break something; he just had to decide on what.

Unsui found him like that two hours later, the effects of the alcohol long since worn off without any answers occurring to Agon.

"There you are," his brother said. "I tried to call your cell phone, but it wouldn't go through. Did something happen?"

Agon lifted his head up to squint at Unsui, who was perched on the edge of his bed. "It broke," he said shortly.

"Give it to me later, maybe I can fix it," Unsui said patiently. Agon just snorted and let his head thump back against the floor.

Unsui was silent for a few moments, though he didn't move away. "Did you already hear the news about Shinryuuji?"

Agon felt rage explode inside of his chest once again. He clenched his fists, but otherwise didn't respond.

Unsui kept talking, not noticing the spike in his little brother's tension. "They announced the second scholarship award for the football team today. Kurita Ryoukan."

"Hn," Agon grunted. Maybe he should just go find the blonde trash and break _his_ face in. Maybe he should have done that from the start, just vaulted over the fence and trashed him right there. Was it too late to go back? How long would they be practicing?

"He just started playing, but people are saying that he's a really talented lineman, absolutely huge for a middle school student." He paused, then confessed, "I put my own name in for the scholarship, actually. I knew it was a long shot, but I figured it couldn't hurt. I'll have to go in the normal way, through the exams, I guess."

Fuck if Agon was taking any shitty entrance exam to get into Shinryuuji now. He definitely didn't give a shit whether he won the bet with Hiruma. Maybe he should go break into his hotel room and steal the notebook. It was probably in that safe he kept locked up in the corner. Was Agon strong enough to break into a safe?

"Still," Unsui said. "I was surprised that they chose someone from an unknown school like Maou. They don't even have a football team."

Agon froze, his thoughts derailing, then sat up. "What did you say?"

Unsui glanced up at him, raising his eyebrows. "They chose someone from Maou. Do you think Hiruma knows him?"

He stood up, ignoring the questions still coming out of Unsui's mouth. Now that he thought about it, that fat trash had been wearing a Shinryuuji uniform. A cold smile crept across his face. He left Unsui in the room, slamming the door behind him.

He was pretty sure he'd just found the perfect thing to break.

* * *

One month before he started high school, Agon showed up at Shinryuuji, football cleats in hand. He hadn't talked to the trash since that night. He'd been such a bitch about the whole thing – more upset then Agon had expected, really, which pissed him off even more. He wouldn't go easy on him during practice. Likely that shitty old man he'd been playing with would be here too, but he wouldn't have to worry about the fatass. Agon grinned, pulled his sunglasses out of his hair and over his eyes, and strolled onto the field.

It was easy to pick out the freshmen from the returning students. For those who hadn't been given a scholarship, these were the beginning of tryouts, but for everyone else, it was the beginning of a month of grueling practice to prepare them for the spring tournament. The seniors looked at home on the field, helping each other stretch and lightly tossing a football around to warm up. The freshmen all huddled off to the side, sneaking glances at them and laughing nervously with one another. Unsui was one of them. He'd probably arrived an hour early.

Agon scanned them quickly for pointy blonde hair. He frowned when he didn't find him. His eyes drifted around the practice field. Was he sitting off to the side? Standing with the seniors? There was no way he had failed the entrance exam. Agon would never say it out loud, but in his mind he grudgingly admitted that the trash was somewhat smart.

He was probably planning on coming late, with a big showy entrance just to try and make these guys piss from fear. Agon smirked at the thought, then began to change his shoes.

Five minutes later, the coach came walking out of the locker rooms, and everyone snapped to attention. He waved over Agon and another student – Ikkyu, he guessed – and opened up a cardboard box stuffed with jerseys.

"These are the numbers we have available right now," he said. "You can choose which one you'd like."

Agon reached in first. He was ready to sift through for the number one when he remembered that that was the number the trash had always pinned to his practice jersey. So he swiped number two instead.

He shrugged it on quickly and looked around again, scowling. Thirty minutes into practice, one of the seniors managed to knock him on his ass when he dropped his guard during a block. Agon retaliated by ripping off his helmet and sending his fist straight into his nose. The coach blew a whistle and sent Agon to the sidelines to sit out for five minutes. He sulked from the bleachers, almost ready to walk out on the whole thing. Only the bet held him in place.

He didn't know what the fuck that trash was playing at now, but he wasn't going to lose to him. He was going to stay right there on the field until he finally came and begged to be on the team. The trash was in love with football. That much Agon knew. And he needed Agon in order to win.

He sat back and waited.


End file.
